


Pendleton Days

by Ytteb



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-14 16:05:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17511680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ytteb/pseuds/Ytteb
Summary: We meet Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs at the funeral of his wife and daughter … what happens next is not canon.This is more angsty than some of my recent stories





	1. Chapter 1

Gunnery Sergeant Jethro Gibbs’ eyes narrowed slightly as he surveyed the mourners at the funeral of his wife and daughter.  His emotions were barely in check but, determined not to break down in front of the well-meaning people who surrounded him, he was taking refuge in an instinctive monitoring of his surroundings, trying almost to imagine himself back at work as a sniper assessing danger points.

Gibbs’ eyes briefly settled on his father and his ‘date’, but this led to an unwelcome upsurge of bitter anger and he looked into the distance once more.  He knew he was, to say the least, unsettled and easily irritated so the sight of a teenaged boy standing on the edge of the crowd, dressed in sneakers and jeans offended him more than it would have normally.  Jethro wasn’t the sort of person to stand much on ceremony, but the presence of this scruffy lad was out of place among the respectably dressed mourners.  The boy seemed to sense the disapproval and patted at his hair to try and make it flat.

The sight of the two coffins, however, brought Gibbs’ attention back to the grim reality that was his life now.  He had experienced loss before with the death of his mother and numerous fellow Marines, but nothing had prepared him for the devastating pain of the loss of Shannon and Kelly leaving him adrift in a featureless dead landscape of despair: he could see no prospect of finding his bearings again and, at that moment, had no wish to find them.  Gibbs could not imagine life without his girls.

Now, his training kicked in and he listened without really hearing, as the Camp Pendleton padre spoke the familiar words of the funeral service: he couldn’t afford to listen properly as the words might have robbed him of any composure.  The words stopped and there was an expectant silence: Gibbs realised that they were waiting for him to throw the first handful of earth on to the coffins.  For a moment, Gibbs felt that was impossible: doing so would somehow confirm the finality of what had happened.

“Leroy,” came Jackson Gibbs’ voice, “Do you want me to help?”

Gibbs had had many fallings out with his father, but Jackson had never before received a look of such contempt from his son.  Gibbs straightened his shoulders and walked briskly to where the coffins were waiting and then took a handful of earth and did what was necessary.  Then he turned smartly and walked away, suddenly unable to bear the thought of waiting to receive the faltering good wishes and commiserations of others.  He strode towards the ocean which he instinctively felt might offer some comfort.  The other mourners could do without him at the reception which had been arranged: the thought of food nauseated him, and he knew both that he could do without the banalities which would be uttered there and that he might lose it if anyone dared to laugh as so often happened at wakes.  Jackson, he thought, would do it better and might even enjoy it.  He ignored the cry of “Leroy” as he walked away.

XXXXXX

Some hours later, Gibbs returned to the house where he had lived so briefly with Shannon and Kelly.  Watching the waves pound against the uncaring beach had brought him some small measure of calm but he hoped that nobody had decided to wait for him at the house.

Shannon had been delighted to find the little house just a couple of miles from Camp Pendleton: they had lived on base before but this time, with her husband facing a longer deployment, she decided she wanted to live outside.  Perhaps she was already beginning to plan what life would be like when Jethro eventually left the Corps: Gibbs had never asked her and now, with a familiar wave of bitterness, he realised he never could.

The house seemed to retain some essence of Shannon and Kelly: not just because their possessions were still strewn around but because even the way the furniture was arranged seemed to scream something about Shannon.  Gibbs looked around bleakly as he tried to imagine packing all this up, possibly disposing of the things that his girls would never need again.  Despair rushed in once more and he finally gave voice to the roar of uncomprehending anguish he had been holding in all day.  Feeling an irresistible urge to smash something he snatched up the nearest object and threw it to the ground and then realised it was the mug Kelly had bought him for his last birthday: the words ‘Best Dad in the World’ lay in pieces in the dust before him.  Tears came at last and he sank to the floor and clasped the shards in his hands.

Hours later, Gibbs woke up and looked around him; he realised he must have sobbed himself to sleep on the floor still clutching the remains of the mug.  He was about to hoist himself up when he heard a sound and decided that must be what had woken him up.  Instinct kicked in and he froze as he tried to locate the source of the sound; moments passed, and he decided that there was someone coming down the stairs.

In a second, he was on his feet and running towards the intruder.  The street light outside gave enough illumination for him to see a slight figure making its way to the door.  His ‘visitor’ had heard his steps and, abandoning stealth, raced to the exit but Gibbs was too fast for him and grabbed his arm and prevented him leaving.

“Who the hell are you?” Gibbs demanded.  He hit the light switch so he could see who he was dealing with, “You!” he exclaimed as he identified the teenager from the funeral, “What are you doing here?”

“Let go!” came the indignant reply, “You’re hurting me!”

Gibbs didn’t let go but rather shook the arm he was holding, “Who are you?  And what are you doing in my house?”

“it’s my stuff,” said the boy sulkily.

Gibbs’ outrage turned to fury as he saw the bag the lad was carrying and he realised that the boy had been rifling through Shannon and Kelly’s things.  “Drop it!” he ordered.

The boy reluctantly let go of the duffel.

Gibbs shook his arm again, “I asked you a question,” he bellowed, “Who are you!”

“I’m Tony … Tony DiNozzo.  I didn’t mean any harm, I just came to get my stuff!”

“Liar!” shouted Gibbs in a frenzy of anger and grief.  “Liar!”

“I’m not lying!  It’s my stuff.  Shannon …”

“What!”

“I mean, Mrs Gibbs … she let me …”

“Get out!” roared Gibbs.  “Get out!  Now!”

“OK, I’m going,” said Tony bending to pick up the bag.

“Leave that!  You’re not taking anything from here … now go …”

“But …”

“But nothing.  Go now or I’ll call the police.  D’you hear?”  Gibbs shook the boy again and, even through the red mist of his emotions, was struck by the mixture of sadness and resignation in his eyes.

“All right, I’m going.  But I wanted to say …”

“I don’t want to hear it,” yelled Gibbs.  “Get out!”  He swung the front door open and shoved Tony through it.  “And don’t come back!  Ever!”  He watched as Tony walked defiantly out of the yard.  When he got to the sidewalk, Tony turned and called,

“I liked Shannon … and Kelly.  They weren’t mean like you!” And with that parting shot, he ran towards the beach.

Gibbs growled with anger and stalked back into the house where he sank exhausted on to the couch.

XXXXXX

Gibbs thought about beginning the task of clearing the house the next day but was constantly distracted by the memories surrounding him.  The mail arrived while Gibbs was looking through one of Kelly’s schoolbooks, but he was in no mood to be dictated to by the outside world, so he carried on reading until he reached the last page,

“A+ always,” he whispered.  He thought he could hear Shannon’s indulgent laugh and Kelly’s half-hearted protest at his absurdity and the tears came to his eyes once more.

When his vision cleared, Gibbs saw that the mailman had left a bundle of letters.  He picked them up lethargically and noticed that there were some sympathy cards, an official looking letter from Camp Pendleton and … a letter from Shannon.  Gibbs threw the rest of the mail to the ground and stared at the letter in disbelief.  For a moment or two, he thought that somehow Shannon was still alive and that the previous few days had been some sort of nightmare but then he realised that the letter had been redirected back from Kuwait and had been sent to him while he was still deployed.

With shaking hands, he sat down on the stairs and tore the letter open,

_My dearest Jethro,_

_Please don’t be angry with me … and I know – I can almost hear you saying it – that I’m a sucker for a hard luck story and that I shouldn’t keep picking up strays but well, I’ve done it again!  But I think you would’ve done the same.  And I think Tony’s a good boy._

Gibbs looked up in shock.  Tony?  He bent to the letter again.

_Kelly and I found Tony sleeping on the beach when we went for an early morning walk.  Did you know that your daughter has developed a passion for collecting seashells?  Well, she has, and she insists that the best ones are found early in the morning.  I guess I’m so grateful that something gets her up in the morning that I go along with it.  I reckon Kelly’s already like a teenager how she won’t get up in the morning – who do you think she gets that from?  Anyway, she’ll get up to look for seashells so I’m taking that as a positive._

_So, we were walking on the beach when we saw this boy asleep.  I was about to walk past but there was something odd about it.  I could tell he’d been there for some time – you know, he hadn’t just been walking along and fallen asleep.  And he had this duffel bag he was using as a pillow.  I hope you’re proud of me, Jethro – I thought that was very observant of me!_

_So, he seemed to sense us standing there staring at him because he woke up.  In a bad mood!  He’s got some things in common with our daughter.  I asked him if he was OK and he insisted that he was, and I was about to walk on when his tummy rumbled._

_You know I can’t bear to see a child hungry and so I turned into mommy bear and insisted he tell me what was going on.  He was stubborn and didn’t want to tell me, but I wore him down in the end.  He was at Wilderness Camp at Lake Elsinore – Jethro, what we will do when Kelly wants to go to Camp?  I’m not sure I want to be away from her … Anyway, he was at this camp when there was a sickness bug and they had to close the camp and send the kids away._

_Tony had chummed up with another boy who lives in San Clemente and his folks invited him to stay with them until he could contact his father about what to do.  Jethro, the poor boy didn’t know where his father was … and didn’t have enough money for the fare back to New York where their home is.  I really don’t want Kelly to go to camp – although I guess we wouldn’t leave her not knowing where we are.  So, Tony came to San Clemente but the family he was staying with went on vacation and couldn’t take Tony with them.  Reading between the lines, I think Tony pretended that he’d been in contact with his Dad who’d arranged a hotel for him.  He didn’t want to admit that he was all alone._

_So Jethro, really, I didn’t have any choice but to bring him back for something to eat … and then, I couldn’t bear to send him away.  He didn’t have anywhere to go, he needed someone to care for him … someone to care about him.  It won’t be for long, I promise.  I’m helping him find his Dad.  Kelly likes him and, trust my instinct – my gut! – he’s a good boy and he’s no trouble.  Well, most of the time although he and Kelly get up to some mischief when my back’s turned.  But he’s good for her: she laughs more since he came than she has since you went away._

_Oh, Jethro, we miss you very much.  We love getting your letters and are counting down the days till you’re back with us._

_Much love – as always,_

_Your Shannon._

The letter fell from Gibbs’ hands as he realised that he’d driven Tony – the last object of Shannon’s care – out of the house.  His grief and anger were momentarily swamped by a feeling of shame as he pictured how hurt Shannon would have been at his actions.

Gibbs snatched up the precious letter once more and, grabbing his jacket and keys, set off to find Tony.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Remembering that Shannon and Kelly had first encountered Tony on the beach, Gibbs focussed his search there.  He spent the day walking up and down asking people if they’d seen a skinny teenager wearing jeans, sneakers and a tee-shirt but there was nothing to make Tony stand out in such a description and he got blank looks and polite – or not so polite – negatives.

At lunch time, Gibbs stopped for a coffee at a beachside café and considered that Tony might have made his way home after all but thought this was unlikely considering that he’d driven the lad out without his precious duffel.  The only comfort Gibbs could find was that this was California in the summer so Tony would not be suffering from the cold if he had been forced to sleep outside.  He averted his mind from the other perils that might be encountered from sleeping rough.

The coffee turned to acid in his mouth as he thought that Tony might not have had any money with him to buy food and might now be hungry as well as homeless.  With a sudden gesture of disgust, Gibbs tipped the dregs of his drink on to the sand and resumed his search.

The afternoon proved as fruitless as the morning and finally Gibbs was driven to return home.  The search for Tony had, for a while, pushed his grief to the back of his mind, but entering his silent house brought it all flooding back, somehow made worse by the thought that he’d betrayed Shannon and Kelly by his forgetfulness.  After a few minutes of being overwhelmed once more by his memories, he noticed that the telephone was indicating that a message had been left for him.  Clinging to the hope that Tony might have called – preferably saying that he was on his way home – he accessed the message,

“Special Agent Mike Franks here.  I work for NIS out of Camp Pendleton.  Need to talk to you about the … accident … Call me.   Number is …”

Gibbs blinked at the phone.  He had become accustomed in recent days to people pussyfooting around him and talking in gentle commiserating tones, so it was a surprise to have such an astringent voice speak to him.

Gibbs called the number and asked for Mike Franks and was soon put through.

“Ah, Gunny.  Thanks for calling back.  Could you come to the office tomorrow?  Round 1000?”

Gibbs, “Yes.  Why do you need to talk to me, Agent Franks?”

“Don’t want to go into it over the phone.  I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

With that, the call was ended, and Gibbs found himself holding the phone in something like shock.  When he finally returned the receiver to the cradle, Gibbs caught sight of Tony’s duffel on the couch and he remembered his other problem.  He opened the bag and looked through in case there was some clue to Tony’s whereabouts but all he found was clothing suitable for Summer Camp, toiletries and a photograph of a much younger Tony with an attractive blonde woman in front of a movie theatre.  Gibbs noted that there was no money in the duffel, so he hoped that Tony had taken some with him.

Gibbs was a practical person so forced himself to have something to eat and then went out to search once more for Tony.  He had taken note earlier in the day of possible places Tony might find to sleep in and he went to investigate those again but without success.

Gibbs spent a restless night.  He thought about going to bed in the room he had once shared with Shannon but found the prospect too painful and he settled for the couch instead.  Perhaps part of him didn’t think he deserved a comfortable bed when Tony was somewhere sleeping under the stars because of him.

XXXXXX

Gibbs was a decisive person but the next morning found him in a quandary.  He couldn’t decide whether he should continue his search for Tony or keep his appointment with Mike Franks.  In the end, he decided to go to Camp Pendleton and see what the NIS agent wanted: it might be also that Franks could make some suggestions about finding the missing boy or whether he should report him to the local police.

Part of Gibbs was comforted by returning to the familiarity of Camp Pendleton: he could see other Marines training and going about their business and that was reassuring.  Another part, however, was outraged that the world was going on as usual despite his _own_ world having been torn apart.  The additional problem was that many of the Marines knew what had happened and he had to run a gauntlet of good wishes and commiserations which tested his composure to the limits.

Finally, however, he reached Mike Franks’ office where he was greeted with a firm handshake,

“Gunny, just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry for your loss.”

Gibbs nodded helplessly.

“And to let you know that I’ll make sure we find out who did this to your wife and little girl.”

Gibbs nodded again.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re going through, Gunny and I won’t pretend I do but I figure if it was me the only comfort, I’d get would be from knowing that the bastard who did this paid … and I mean _paid_ ”

Gibbs nodded again, warming to this brisk man who seemed to know he didn’t need soft words but … well, Gibbs hadn’t been thinking in terms of revenge – until now.

“Thank you, Agent Franks.  And how near are you to finding out who did this?”

“Your wife was the only witness to the murder of a Marine.  We’re getting close to knowing who the murderer was … got a few possibles.   We needed your wife to make the final ID.  In fact, she was on her way in when … well, you know.”

“What happens now … without her … testimony.  Without her confirming?”

“We’re working on it.  That’s what I wanted you to know.  Did she say anything to you about what she saw?”

Gibbs shook his head, “Nope.  I was out of the camp on a mission.  And we didn’t get any phone calls.  All I had was letters that Shannon wrote saying that she’d seen something awful and was being looked after by NIS.”

“Can I see the letters?  They might help.”

Gibbs was briefly appalled at someone seeing the tender letters Shannon had sent him but then decided that the sacrifice of privacy would be a price worth paying if it put her killer behind bars.  He nodded, “I’ll bring them in tomorrow.”

“Good.  I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Franks took another pull on his cigarette and pulled a folder towards him in obvious dismissal.

Gibbs walked out, feeling an odd bond with this no-nonsense agent.  It wasn’t until he was driving off Camp when he realised that he’d forgotten to mention Tony, but he decided he’d search again for the rest of the day and, if necessary, tell Franks tomorrow.

Gibbs walked the beach all afternoon but still found no trace of Tony and was eventually forced to return home from mental and physical exhaustion.  As he walked up the path to his front door, he noticed a shadow move to the side of the house and ran around to investigate,

“Tony!” he called.

The teenager paled and then flushed when he realised he’d been caught, “I wasn’t doing anything!” he protested.

“I just want to talk,” said Gibbs raising his hands in a pacific gesture.

“I wasn’t going to steal anything,” said Tony apparently not trusting the gesture.

“I know,” said Gibbs.

“You do?”

“Yes.”

“Why do you know?  I mean, how do you know _now_?  You didn’t trust me the other night.”

“I know.  I had a letter from my wife … from Shannon.”

“What?  But she’s dead!  I mean, you know that but how could she write you a letter?”

“She wrote it before she died.  She sent it to Kuwait, and it got sent back to me.  I got it the morning after you left.”

“Is that what you call it?” asked Tony bitterly, “’Cos that sounds kinda as if it was my choice.”

“I know,” agreed Gibbs.

“Is that an apology?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“You were in my house.  Taking something.  I think I was right to be suspicious.”

“Guess so,” conceded Tony.  “Still, you could apologise.”

“You could apologise for sneaking in,” suggested Gibbs.  “Most people would have knocked on the door and asked.”

“Huh.  Suppose so.  Grown-ups always have to have the last word, don’t they?”

Gibbs shrugged: he could remember feeling much the same as a lad in Stillwater.

“Guess we’re quits then,” said Tony, “We both won’t say sorry.”

Gibbs nodded.

“’Cos secretly, we both think we’re in the right,” continued Tony.

“Thought it was grown-ups who had to have the last word,” said Gibbs mildly.

Tony grinned for the first time since Gibbs had seen him.  The smile transformed an otherwise unremarkable face: for a moment the transformation warmed Gibbs and then he remembered other dear faces which he would never see transformed again and he scowled.

Tony’s smile faltered,

“I just came to get my gear,” he offered tentatively as if fearing he would be run off again.

Gibbs sighed and pulled himself together, “Sure.  Come on inside.”

Tony followed slightly hesitantly as if he still remembered the enraged Gibbs of a couple of days before, but the lure of his duffel was too strong, and he went into the house.

“Where you been?” asked Gibbs.

“Around,” said Tony vaguely.

“That it?”

Tony shrugged, “Here and there,” he elaborated.

“I was looking for you.”

“What?  I mean, excuse me?”

“You heard.  I read Shannon’s letter and she said that you were a good lad …”  Gibbs paused as he saw that Tony had blushed at the compliment and had tears in his eyes at his own memories.

“She was good to me,” said Tony, “She didn’t have to be, but she was.  All the other people walked past as if I was invisible, but she saw me sleeping in the sand … and she stopped and …”  He broke off with a sniffle and swiped at his nose with his hand.

“Here,” said Gibbs whose military neatness was offended by this, he handed Tony a cotton square.

“Thanks,” said Tony demonstrating he knew what a handkerchief was for by blowing into it loudly and thoroughly.  Finally, Tony looked up sheepishly and looked at the piece of cotton, “If this was a movie,” he said, “I’d offer to get it laundered but I don’t think that’ll work!”

“Keep it,” ordered Gibbs, “You like movies then?”

“Sort of,” said Tony reverting to teenage nonchalance.

Gibbs was amazed to find that a grin was twitching at his mouth.  “You hungry?” he asked to prevent himself delving deeper into the thought that Tony was amusing him.

Tony attempted another indifferent shrug but was betrayed by a loud rumble from his stomach, “I guess,” he managed.

“Sit down,” ordered Gibbs, “I’ll see what we’ve got.”

A few minutes later, Gibbs and Tony were sitting at the kitchen table working their way through a pile of sandwiches.  When they had finished, Tony went to the refrigerator and got out two apples,

“Shannon, I mean, Mrs Gibbs …”

“It’s all right, you can call her Shannon,” said Gibbs mildly.

“Shannon always said we should have a piece of fruit with every meal,” said Tony earnestly and he handed Gibbs an apple.

Gibbs found himself lost in memories of Shannon trying to make him eat fruit, but he managed to take the apple and bite into it.  Tony grinned at him happily.

“So,” said Gibbs when he had demolished the apple, “What happens next?”

“Excuse me?”

“In the letter, Shannon said she was trying to find your Dad?  Did she do it?”

“No,” said Tony.  “I had the number of his office in New York but …”

“What?”

“The phone was cut off.  I expect he isn’t using the place any more.  He doesn’t really need an office.”

“What does he do?”

“Oh, you know – stuff.  Deals, things like that.  He travels a lot.   You know.”

Gibbs didn’t know but decided not to pursue this.  “Where does he live … where do you live?”

“There’s a house in New York,” said Tony.

Gibbs blinked at this description of home, “That where your Mom is?”

Tony’s face went blank, “My Mom’s dead.  She died when I was 8.  And I haven’t got a step-mom at the moment.  Or at least, I don’t think so.”

Gibbs managed to keep a blank expression of his own, “You’re not sure?”

“Senior …”

“Senior?  Who’s Senior?”

“My Dad.  He’s Anthony DiNozzo Senior.  He calls me Junior … so I call him Senior.”

“Oh, OK.  So why aren’t you sure about step-moms.”

“Well, you know – he’s been married a couple times since Mom.  They haven’t lasted.  I think the latest divorce has gone through so he might have got married again.  He might be on his honeymoon.”

Gibbs suspected that his jaw had just dropped open in surprise, but he managed to say, “And you really don’t know where he is?”

Tony shook his head, “Nope.  When the Camp had to close, they tried to contact him but well, they had the office number too.”

“What about the house in New York?  Is there anyone there?”

Tony shifted uneasily, “I think he rented it out for the summer.  Or he might have sold it.”

“How long were you going to be at Camp for?”

“All summer.”

“All summer?”  Gibbs had hated being apart from Kelly and couldn’t imagine voluntarily being away from her for such a long time.

“Sure,” said Tony who seemed unfazed by this.

“And when was he going to pick you up from Camp.  Did he tell when he dropped you off?”

Tony laughed, “He didn’t drop me off!  He sent me a plane ticket and I went there on my own.”

Gibbs swallowed, “But he was going to pick you up?”

“Don’t know.  He hadn’t told me.”

“Wasn’t he at home when you left for Camp?” asked Gibbs, still trying to work things out.

“Don’t know.  I was at school.”  Tony saw Gibbs’ puzzlement, “I was at boarding school,” he explained.  “Senior sent the ticket there.  I didn’t need to go home at all.”

Gibbs had a brainwave, “Have you called the school?  Asked them if they’ve got a contact number for your Dad?”

Tony looked embarrassed, “The school won’t know.  I was expelled at the end of term.  Well, not so much expelled as told I couldn’t go back.  I don’t think it really counts as being expelled ‘cos they let me stay to the end of term.  They wouldn’t have done that if they’d really expelled me, would they?”

Not for the first time in a conversation with Tony, Gibbs found himself at a loss, “No, I guess not,” he said a little weakly.  Then he had another brainwave, “Well, what about your new school.  They must have a number.”

“Um, well, I don’t know where I’m going in the Fall,” he admitted, “I was waiting for Senior to tell me.”

“But you’ve written to him, haven’t you?  You know, while you’ve been at Camp?  And he must have written to you.”

“DiNozzos aren’t much for keeping in touch,” said Tony emotionlessly, “We stand on our own two feet.  We don’t need other people.”

“Well …” began Gibbs.

“Although Shannon said that wasn’t true,” said Tony reflectively, “She said that everyone needs someone.  And she said that, for the summer at least, she’d be _my_ someone … and Kelly too.”

Gibbs took a swallow of his coffee to hide his emotions.  Tony’s words had somehow summed up the Shannon he had adored … and sometimes been infuriated by.  “So, what are your plans?” he asked.

Tony sat up straighter as if he realised his brief respite was over, “I’ll grab my stuff and be out of your hair,” he announced in a business-like manner wholly unsuited to his years.

“Got somewhere to go?” asked Gibbs.

“I’ll find somewhere,” said Tony confidently.

“Don’t seem to have done too good a job so far,” said Gibbs a little brutally, “You could do with a shower.”

“I went for a swim yesterday,” protested Tony who seemed to have all the teenaged boy’s reluctance to make acquaintance with a bathroom.

Gibbs found himself on the brink of smiling once more, “Tell you what.  You go have a shower.  Give me those dirty clothes and I’ll put them in the washer.  Sleep here tonight and we’ll work something out tomorrow.”

Tony looked mutinous for a moment.  Gibbs thought of a clinching argument,

“It’s what Shannon would have wanted.”

“But what about you?” asked Tony, “Don’t you want to be alone?  I saw you walk off from the funeral yesterday.  Didn’t look as if you wanted company.”

Gibbs was impressed that Tony, in desperate need, was yet ready to sacrifice those needs to Gibbs’ feelings.

“You know,” he said, “I reckon you’d be doing me a favour if you stayed.  House is kinda empty.” He smiled bravely and then realised he meant every word.

“Well,” said Tony trying to hide the fact that he longed to stay, “Just till I get something sorted out.”


	3. Chapter 3

Gibbs slept on the couch again that night: or rather, he lay on the couch and tossed and turned for hours until he fell asleep around dawn.  He awoke in a black mood, filled once more with grief and a sense of guilt that he had allowed himself to be distracted by the search for Tony and the visit to Camp Pendleton.  As he lay blinking at the sun, he realised once more that his sorrow was a physical pain weighing him down and that, despite the brightness of the day, his life was all darkness.

A noise from the kitchen prompted him eventually to roll off the couch and, reluctantly, go to investigate.  He found Tony practically inhaling a bowl of cereal.  From the depleted carton of milk, Gibbs surmised it was probably his second or third bowl.

“Hi,” said Tony brightly as he saw Gibbs standing watching him.  “I made coffee.  Do you want some?”

“I’ll get it,” said Gibbs gesturing for him to sit back down again.  He poured himself a mug and then spat it out.  “Ugh!  What you call this?”

“Coffee,” said Tony less brightly.  “It’s how Senior likes it.”

Gibbs poured the coffee away and, noisily, started another brew.

“I’m sorry,” said Tony.

Something within Gibbs told him he was being unreasonable, but the louder voice was more concerned with how unfair life was and that weak coffee was all just part of the universe being against him.  He didn’t say anything but brooded over the coffee percolator until it had produced enough for him to drink.  He took a sip of the bitter brew and sat down opposite Tony.

“There’s cereal,” suggested Tony.  He shook the box to make sure he was telling the truth.  “Or I could make you some toast …”

“No.  Don’t want anything.  This is enough,” replied Gibbs.

Tony nodded meekly and went back to his own breakfast but ensured he ate it as quietly as possible.

Gibbs groaned to himself when he saw that he had intimidated the boy so, with an effort, tried again,

“How old are you anyway.  12?”

Tony looked offended, “I’m nearly 14!”

“How near?”

“Next week.”

“OK.  I guess that’s pretty near,” conceded Gibbs.

He took another gulp of coffee, “You got anyone else apart from your Dad?”

“Huh?”

“You know, uncles, aunts, grandparents.  They might know where your Dad is.”

“I’ve got an uncle in New York, but I haven’t seen him for a while.  Senior had a falling out with him.”

“Got a phone number for him?  An address?”

“Nope.  Like I said, I haven’t seen him for a long time.  Not since I was young.”  Tony sighed in an elderly way.  “He’s a butcher.”

“How does that help?” snapped Gibbs.

Tony shrank back in his chair, “I guess it doesn’t.  I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Don’t call me Sir!”

“No, Si- um, what shall I call you?”

“Gibbs.”

“Are you sure,” asked Tony doubtfully, “You won’t get mad?”

“I said so, didn’t I?” asked Gibbs in continued irritation.  On the best of days, he wasn’t a great conversationalist at breakfast, and this was very far from being his best day.  He looked up from the dark depths of his coffee mug and saw Tony gazing at him fearfully.  Somehow Gibbs’ gut told him that Tony was used to irate adults and was reacting accordingly.

“Don’t look like that,” said Gibbs.  “I’m not mad at you.”

“You sounded as if you were.”

“I’m not mad at you … I guess I’m mad at myself,” said Gibbs before adding in a whisper _and at the world.”_

“I understand,” said Tony wisely.

“You do?”

“Yes.  Daddy … I mean, Senior was like that when Mommy died.  He was angry with everyone and everything.  I think that’s why he sent me away.  I made him mad.”  Another look of anxiety crossed Tony’s face, “But you don’t need to know that.  It doesn’t help anything.”  Tony looked into his empty bowl sadly.

What was left of Gibbs’ heart went out to the boy, but he couldn’t think of anything to say so settled for refilling the bowl with cereal.  “Guess we’ll have to go grocery shopping,” he said.

Tony nodded.

“And I’ll make the coffee myself.  Rule 23.”

“What?  I mean, excuse me?” asked Tony worriedly.

“Never mess with a Marine’s coffee,” explained Gibbs.

“Whose rule is that?”

“Mine.”

“How many rules are there?”

“A few,” said Gibbs vaguely as he was transported back to the day when Shannon had found out that he had actually written them all down.  He smiled momentarily at the happy memory and felt the now familiar stab of pain as reality broke in and he remembered that memories were all he had now.  “I’ve got to go to Camp Pendleton today,” he announced, “You’d better come with me.”

“Why?”

“Try _because I said so_ ,” said Gibbs briskly.

“Oh,” Tony cast a wistful look outside and Gibbs guessed that the beach was calling him.

“I’ll ask the NIS agent looking into the … accident … I’ll ask him to see if he can trace your dad or your uncle.”

“OK,” said Tony.

“So, go and get ready,” ordered Gibbs.  “Have a shower.”

“But I had one yesterday,” protested Tony.

“And you can have one today as well.  Go on, move it.”

Tony moved away reluctantly and once again Gibbs found himself almost smiling.

XXXXXX

“Why you get expelled?” asked Gibbs as they drove towards the Camp.  He wanted to keep his emotions in check and had learned that Tony was a good distraction.

“I’m a troublemaker, disrespectful and have no respect for authority,” said Tony in an emotionless voice.

“Oh,” said Gibbs, this wasn’t quite what he’d expected.  “And what do you think you are?”

Tony shrugged a teenage shrug, “I get bored.”

“And?”

“The rules were stupid.  I mean, I get some rules.  And your rule about coffee, I guess that makes sense but theirs didn’t.”

“Like what?”

“No running in the corridor.  No sneakers on Sunday.  Stuff like that.”

“And what about being disrespectful?”

“I can be respectful, but they didn’t deserve my respect,” said Tony scornfully.

“Why not?”

“The rules?  They were just there to show who was in charge.  That we were nothing.  They’d never _explain_ anything.”

“Did you try telling them that?”  Gibbs suspected that Tony had and that that was part of the problem.

“They don’t listen.  They just want everyone to conform to their dumb idea of what well brought up boys do.  Huh!”

“What did your Dad say?”

The nonchalant shrug was less convincing this time, “He shouted a lot.  Said I was a pain.  That I’d end up in the gutter.”

Gibbs was grateful that they had reached the Camp gate so he didn’t have to find an immediate reply.  Still reeling from the loss of his beloved daughter, he couldn’t imagine how a father could be so cruel to a child.  A few minutes later, as they reached the NIS office, Gibbs once more used actions rather than words and put a hand on Tony’s shoulder as they walked away from the car.

“Gunny!” barked Agent Franks, “Who’s this?”

“Tony DiNozzo.  He’s staying with me.  Got cut off from his Dad.  Thought you could help find him.”

“Sure,” agreed Franks.  “Did you bring the letters?”

Gibbs nodded as he reluctantly handed over the letters Shannon had written after she had witnessed the murder.  “Read them last night.  Don’t think there’s anything in them.  She didn’t go into detail.”

“I’ll take a look,” said Franks as he took the bundle.  Then, with a moment of insight, he said, “Don’t worry, Gunny, I’ll look after them.  I’ll have them copied and give the originals back.”

Gibbs nodded gratefully at his understanding, “So, how’s the investigation going?” he asked.

“Come into my office,” invited Franks, “Boy, you stay here.  No need for you to listen in.”  He pointed to a chair outside his office and Tony disconsolately went to sit on it; with nothing else to do he watched what the other agents were doing.

Sometime later, Gibbs emerged from the office with a disappointed look on his face: Franks had admitted that progress was slow in discovering who had been responsible for the deaths of the NIS protection agent and Gibbs’ wife and daughter.  It was also not clear how many people they were looking for as NIS did not know if the person Shannon had witnessed carrying out the original murder was the same person who had killed her.  Franks had hinted that he had a good idea who was responsible for Shannon and Kelly’s murder but, at the moment, lacked the ability to prove it.

“Tony,” said Gibbs, “I’m going to hit the head.  Agent Franks will take details about your family.  OK?”  He saw the puzzled expression on Tony’s face, “I’m going to use the bathroom,” he explained.

“Boy!” called Franks.

_The name’s Tony_ muttered Tony under his breath, but he went into Franks’ office: somehow, he knew that being insolent with the NIS agent would have no effect.

Agent Franks took down as much information as Tony had about his missing relatives and then said,

“When Gunny Gibbs comes back, tell him I’ve gone to the head.  And I’ll get copies done of those letters.  You got that?”

“Yes,” said Tony with a roll of his eyes to try and indicate he wasn’t stupid.

Franks looked at him suspiciously but didn’t say anything.  He pulled a file out from his desk drawer, opened it and laid it on his desk.  “Tell the gunny I’ll be a while.  He doesn’t have to wait if he doesn’t want to.”  He tapped the folder with one finger and with that, he stalked out of the room.

Tony stared at the open folder on the desk; he wasn’t sure what had just happened, but something didn’t feel right.  He looked back into the main office where he had noticed that agents had been careful about not leaving case files unattended, but Franks had left this file where Gibbs could not help but see it when he returned.  Not sure why this would matter but somehow feeling that it did, Tony took off his sweater and put it over the folder so it was no longer visible.

“Where’s Franks?” asked Gibbs a moment or two later.

“Went to the head,” said Tony.  “Said he’d be a while, but you don’t have to wait.”

“He ask you about your folks?”  Tony nodded.  “OK, we’ll head out then.  Don’t forget your sweater.”

Tony nodded and followed Gibbs out of the NIS office; he hoped they wouldn’t meet Agent Franks on the way.

XXXXXX

Gibbs couldn’t face returning to the empty house and Tony’s stomach was rumbling again, so he drove them to a café on the beach.  Gibbs ordered a large coffee and gestured to Tony to place his order.  Tony hesitated and put his hands in his pockets and counted out a few dollars before picking up the menu.

“I’ll pay,” said Gibbs.

“It’s all right,” said Tony.

“I said I’ll pay.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know I don’t.”

“I’m already sleeping at your place and eating your food,” protested Tony.

“Call it a loan,” suggested Gibbs.

“That’s what Shannon said too.”

Gibbs managed a crooked smile, “Great minds …”

“What?”

“Great minds think alike,” said Gibbs completing the saying.

“And fools never differ!” said Tony cheekily before clapping his hand over his mouth in horror, “I didn’t mean …”

“You know,” said Gibbs drily, “I know you’re not much of a one for rules but perhaps you could try thinking before you speak?”

“Yes, Sir – I mean, Mr Gibbs, I mean, Gibbs.”

“Go on, order something.”

“But I don’t when I’ll be able to pay you back.”

“I can wait.”

“You sure?”

“Never say anything I don’t mean.”

“Is that another rule?”

“Guess it is.”

“Why do grown-ups like rules so much?” complained Tony.

“It’s good to have a code,” said Gibbs.  “You’ll find out one day.  Possibly.”

“Why possibly?”

“’Cos it seems to me that if you don’t eat something you’ll die of starvation before you’re an adult.”

“Oh,” said Tony digesting this, “Oh.  All right.  Huh, they’ve got a pepperoni and sausage pizza …”

“You like pizza?”

“Senior doesn’t approve.  He thinks it’s common, you know – street food or something.”

“I like pizza,” said Gibbs stoutly.

“But you’ve only ordered coffee.”

“I was getting to it,” protested Gibbs.  He caught a smug look on Tony’s face and thought he might have been suckered into eating.

The pizzas soon arrived.  “Ah, Tony,” said the motherly waitress, “I’ve put extra cheese on yours.  You are too skinny, you know.”  She wrapped an arm around his neck and kissed him on the cheek before saying something else which made Tony blush.

“What was that?” asked Gibbs when she had gone.  “I couldn’t make it out.”

“Italian,” mumbled Tony.

“You speak Italian?”

“Some,” and then apparently feeling he needed an excuse for this eccentricity added, “We’re Italian.  Or at least Senior’s family is.”

“Uh huh,” said Gibbs.  “She seemed to know you.”

“I’ve been here sometimes,” said Tony vaguely.

“Uh huh,” said Gibbs again as he began to think that Tony collected friends wherever he went – except at boarding school or perhaps anywhere it would have been a good idea to make allies.  “Where do your Mom’s family come from?”  He saw Tony’s surprise, “Hey, you said your Dad’s family is Italian.  Sort of implies your Mom’s family isn’t.”

“They’re British,” said Tony almost as if this was another shameful secret.

“So not local then?”

“Duh, they live in England,” said Tony blankly, he didn’t seem to expect humour from Gibbs.

“Right,” said Gibbs gravely.

“How long do you think it will take Agent Franks to find my Dad?” asked Tony when he had demolished half of his pizza.

“Depends.  You worried?”

“Nah,” said Tony unconvincingly, “I can look after myself.”

“We’ll find your Dad, you know.”

“Doesn’t matter,” said Tony airily, “I can get a job.”

“Doing what?”

“I’ll think of something.”

“It’s OK to be worried, Tony,” said Gibbs.

“I’m not worried,” replied Tony stoutly but he put his slice of pizza down as if he could no longer face it.

“And It’s OK to ask for help,” prodded Gibbs.

Tony looked at Gibbs sharply, “Like you did?”

“Huh?”

“When you walked away at the funeral.  I guess there were people waiting to help you, but you walked away.”

“That’s different.”

“Yeah.  I guess that’s a rule that all grown ups have,” said Tony bitterly.

“What’s that?”

“Do as I say, not as I do.”

Gibbs found he had no answer to that and indeed could remember a similar argument he’d had with Jackson years before.  “You finished?” he asked nodding towards the remaining slice of pizza.

Tony nodded.

“Let’s go then.”

Tony jumped up and followed Gibbs for a couple of paces before darting back and snatching up the uneaten slice.

The ride back to the house was made in silence: each had given the other much to think about and their emotions were raw.

They were within sight of the house when they saw a grey van accelerate out of the driveway and race off at high speed.

“Who were they?” asked Tony.

Gibbs’ hands tightened on the steering wheel; his instinct was to give chase, but Tony’s presence deterred him.

“You get their number?” he asked Tony.

“2JXT492,” said Tony promptly.

Gibbs raised a surprised eyebrow.

“I like watching cop shows,” said Tony simply.

“Good boy,” said Gibbs ruffling his hair.

Tony tried, but failed, to look disgruntled at the messing of his hair and a beaming smile soon dawned on his face.  “We going to go after them?” he asked hopefully.

“No.  I’ll call Mike Franks.  See what he thinks.  Come on, let’s go see if we can tell what they were up to.”


	4. Chapter 4

In later years, Gibbs was to think of the next day as being _Tony’s stroppy teenager_ day and to wonder if he could have handled things differently.

Of course, it didn’t help that the day on which Tony experienced the Terrible Teens was also a day in which Gibbs was in full blown grieving widower and father mode: if just one of them had been less extreme then perhaps things would have been different.  _If_!

The day got off to an unpromising start as Gibbs noticed that Tony had left his shoes in the middle of the living room floor and an untidy pile of clothes on the couch: his military neatness was offended at the mess.

Then Gibbs looked at his mail and saw that two official looking letters had arrived.  The first one was from Shannon’s life insurance company commiserating with his loss and inviting him to submit a claim.  Gibbs’ eyes narrowed and his mouth tightened as he contemplated this. 

The second well-meaning letter was from a welfare officer at Camp Pendleton suggesting that he might be eligible to claim from the California Victim Compensation and Government Claims Board.  The letter slipped through Gibbs’ nerveless fingers as he considered the impossibility of money compensating for his loss when he would give everything he had to have his girls back.

Gibbs felt physically sick at the thought that he might somehow benefit financially from the deaths of Shannon and Kelly.  While the logical, rational part of his brain knew that many families would find a financial settlement an immense help the other part screamed in horror at the idea of money helping.

Gibbs closed his eyes to blot out the letters but then found himself listening more intently to the sound of Tony apparently practising drum riffs in the kitchen.  At that moment, the phone rang so he bellowed, “Hey!” in the direction of the kitchen.  The riffs continued albeit at a lower volume.

“Gibbs,” he barked into the phone.  He listened to the conversation, said ‘huh’ a few times and then put the phone down.  He went into the kitchen to investigate and found Tony with five saucepans on the table in front of him and a wooden spoon in each hand.  He was still in his nightclothes and the dishes – one of Tony’s jobs – were still lying dirty in the sink.

Gibbs counted to 3, he knew he should try to get to 10 but he couldn’t make it, “You haven’t done the dishes,” he said brusquely.

“Oh,” said Tony looking up vaguely, “I hadn’t got around to it.  I’ll do them later.”  He returned to his drumming with an absorbed frown.

“And the living room is a mess!  All your gear lying around.”

“Yeah,” said Tony in a bored voice.  “Don’t sweat it.  I haven’t had time to clear up yet.”

“But you’ve had time to mess up the kitchen?”

Tony shrugged and tried another riff.

Gibbs counted to another 3 and decided on a different tack, “That was Mike Franks.  Says that van we saw yesterday was rented.  Driver paid cash and the company didn’t do much of a check on his licence.”

“Hmm.”

“Franks reckons it might have been some opportunist thief.  Apparently, they look for funeral notices in the papers and target the houses.”

“Wouldn’t they target them on the day of the funeral?” asked Tony showing a bit more interest.  “That’s what I’d do.  House is more likely to be empty then.”

Gibbs nodded and was momentarily appeased by Tony’s astute reasoning but then frowned once more as Tony started even louder drumming, “Hey!  Those are Shannon’s pans!”

That got Tony’s attention and he looked sheepish.  He put the spoons down and began to pack the saucepans away. 

“Franks says he’ll get on to the local police.  Ask them to keep an eye on the place,” continued Gibbs.

“Does he think it’s got something to do with … well, you know?” asked Tony.

“Might be.  Doubt it though.”

Tony finished putting the pans away and sat back down at the table and began riffing again with the palms of his hands.

“Can you stop that a minute,” asked Gibbs.

Tony looked up and after a long pause, obeyed.

Gibbs cleared his throat, “Franks said they may have found your Dad.”

Tony’s eyes widened but he didn’t say anything.

“He caught a flight to … Nice.  That’s in …”

“France.  I know,” said Tony emotionlessly.  “I guess he’s gone to Cap d’Antibes.  His buddy Omar Ibn Alwaan has a villa there.”

“Omar Ib …?”

“Prince Al.  That’s what Senior calls him.  They’ve been friends for years.  He’s a Saudi prince.”

“I’ll let Franks know that he might have gone on to … wherever it was you said.  Franks said he’d ask NIS at Rota to look into it.”

“He won’t want to be interrupted,” said Tony.

“What?”

“He’ll be enjoying himself.  And doing deals.  He won’t want to be bothered.”  Tony resumed his tapping.

“He’s not going to have much choice about it,” said Gibbs brusquely.

Tony shrugged but didn’t let the gesture break his rhythm.

“He can’t just go off and leave you!” protested Gibbs.

Tony didn’t bother shrugging this time but frowned and upped the beat and volume.

“Stop that!” ordered Gibbs, “I want to talk to you!”

“Nothing to talk about,” said Tony sullenly as he continued the drumming.

The insolent look and the disobedience shattered Gibbs’ fragile self-control, “Guess I can see why your Dad doesn’t want anything to do with you.”

The drumming stopped.  For a moment there was a look of shock on Tony’s suddenly pale face before he wiped all emotion away, “I’ll go tidy up,” he said.

Gibbs was horrified at what he’d said and the effect it had had but could find no words to soften the blow he had just inflicted so he simply nodded helplessly.

XXXXXXX

The rest of the day passed quietly but not peacefully.  Tony maintained a dignified silence and refused to smile even when Gibbs ordered his favourite pizza in; he ate his food neatly and politely before jumping up to clean the dishes.  The offended dignity didn’t quite extend to washing up silently; there was a lot of offended banging of plates and silverware.

Gibbs found a movie on the TV set which he thought Tony would enjoy and once again Tony sat in polite silence without providing the running commentary he had given the first time they had watched a movie together.

Somehow Gibbs wasn’t surprised when Tony announced he was going to bed early: he decided that if Tony hadn’t forgiven him the next day he would confront the issue full on.

It wasn’t long before Gibbs decided to call it a day as well and, just as he was preparing the couch as his bed, he heard a noise from the master bedroom above the living room and went to investigate.  He was shocked to see Tony rummaging in the night stand on Shannon’s side of the bed,

“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded.

Tony looked around in shock and horror, “It’s not what you think …”

“What do you think I think it is?”

“I wasn’t … I was just …”

Gibbs strode up to Tony and slammed the open drawer shut, “Is this what you do?  After Shannon took you in … you were going to _steal_ from us?”

“I wasn’t stealing!”

“What were you doing then?”

“Shannon said she had some money …”

“How dare you!” roared Gibbs.  He instinctively raised his hand and Tony ducked back in fear.  Gibbs looked at his raised hand and almost shuddered at the thought that he might have struck Tony.  He forced himself to be calm, “We’ll talk about this in the morning,” he said shakily.

“But I wasn’t …”

“I said _tomorrow_.  For once in your life, do what you’re told.  Go to bed.  Go!”

Tony opened his mouth to say something but then closed it again.  He nodded and walked out quietly.  Gibbs sat on the bed finding that he was quivering with anger: he had trusted Tony; Shannon had trusted Tony and he had betrayed them both.  He shook his head before looking around to make sure that Tony hadn’t disturbed anything and, when satisfied all was in its usual place, left the room making sure to lock the door behind him.

Gibbs didn’t sleep well that night.

XXXXXXX

The house was quiet when Gibbs woke up the next morning: he was grateful that Tony had decided to postpone any more drum practice.  He was hopeful that both he and Tony could get back on an even keel although Gibbs would have to put some areas of the house out of bounds for his visitor.

The mail arrived as Gibbs drank his first cup of coffee.  There were no more official letters to disturb him and, joy of joys, there was another letter from Shannon.  The delayed letters were a source of both happiness and sorrow to Gibbs, but he wasn’t able to resist reading them.

There was a smile on Gibbs’ face as he read Shannon’s account of what she and Kelly had been up to: swimming in the ocean, funfair rides and Kelly’s attempt to try every flavour of ice-cream available,

_And, of course,_ wrote Shannon, _having Tony here has made Kelly happy.  I didn’t know she’d always wanted an elder brother but apparently so and so she’s adopted Tony.  Tony tries to be offhand about it, but I think, deep down, he’s flattered.  He’s really good with her, Jethro._

_I think I should warn you though – in case he’s still here when you get back – that every now and then he sort of acts up.  Gets sullen and awkward – which isn’t really him at all because I think he’s been brought up to be polite and considerate.  I think he acts up sort of to test whether or not we really care about him.  He expects to be rejected and sometimes he tries to make it happen.  I know it’s not logical but I guess we’ve all acted up in our time.  I seem to remember Jackson having some similar stories about when you were Tony’s age!_

Gibbs frowned at that and wondered if that’s what Tony had been doing the previous day: acting out to see if Gibbs would send him away.  He resolved to remember Shannon’s words when he spoke to Tony about his recent behaviour.

_Jethro, do you think it’s all right to lie to a child?  You know, just a white lie … or two?  Tony mentioned that he has family in England.  His mother was English you know.  We were watching a TV show about the aristocracy in England and he mentioned, ever so casually, that his grandfather was an Earl.  I didn’t even know what one was exactly but he explained it to me and said that his Mom’s maiden name was Paddington, like a London railway station.  So, I figured that if we can’t find out where his no-good Dad is (and yes, I’m mad about that!) his English relatives might help out.  So, Kelly and I went to the library and it turned out that they had this book which has all the English lords and ladies in.  And there was someone called Lord Paddington with a home address._

_Long story short, I wrote to the address, explained what had happened and a few days ago, a cheque arrived in the post.  From Lord Paddington!  I didn’t tell Tony because his grandfather asked me not to – said he might have something else in mind.  But I did tell him that I had some money for him … said it had come as a refund on the Camp fees: I thought it might make him feel better to know there was some money for him.  But, Jethro, Lord Paddington sent $1000!  I thought I’d better tell you in case you wondered why that amount of money had gone into our account and then come out again!_

_But Jethro, that’s not the only white lie I told Tony.  I don’t feel bad about not telling him about the money … and anyway, his grandfather asked me not to tell him.  But actually, I don’t feel bad about the other lie either.  Well, not after today._

_Agent Franks has changed the agent who’s been on protection detail.  He didn’t say why but I think they’re getting more anxious about it and I know that the original agent has a family and was concerned about the danger.  I don’t really think we’re in danger … and I know that agreeing to be a witness was the right thing to do so I won’t back out.  But when Agent Franks said he’d changed our protection detail it made me even gladder that I told Tony he couldn’t be a witness to the murder because he’s too young.  I know he probably got a better view of the shooting than me, but I still think it wouldn’t have been right to tell anyone, I don’t want to put him through giving evidence._

_I must finish now.  Kurt – our new protection agent – is waiting to drive Kelly and me to her swimming lesson._

_Much love as always,_

_Your Shannon._

Gibbs stared at the letter realising that Shannon must have written it just before the shooting: these were her last words and therefore doubly precious.  And then Gibbs reread the last few lines and the information that Tony had also witnessed the murder sank in.  Was that, Gibbs wondered, why the mystery van had been at his house?

Gibbs jumped to his feet and hurried up the stairs to Tony’s room.  He tapped quickly on the door but, not getting a response, went in.  The smell of furniture polish hit his nostrils and he grinned at the thought that Tony had truly turned over a new leaf and cleaned his room.  And then Gibbs saw that the bed had been stripped and that all of Tony’s clutter had gone.  There was a sheet of paper on the bed,

_Dear Sir_ – Gibbs winced at that _– thank you for letting me stay but I think it’s time I went.  Sorry I was annoying, it’s not your fault.  No need to worry about me, I’ll be fine._

_Tony (DiNozzo)_

The bracketed DiNozzo got to Gibbs as well: it looked as if Tony wasn’t sure Gibbs would know which Tony had been sleeping in his house!

Gibbs swore: not only had Tony left but it was possible that Shannon and Kelly’s killers would be after him.


	5. Chapter 5

Gibbs froze for a moment or two as he tried to decide what to do: part of him wanted to go and find Tony but another, stronger part thought it would be best to enlist Mike Franks’ help.

“Franks,” barked the NIS agent down the phone.

“Agent Franks, it’s Gibbs here.  Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs.”

“Yeah?  I haven’t got any news for you, Gunny.  Told you I’d be in touch …”

“Tony’s run off,” Gibbs interrupted.

“Who?  Oh, that kid who’s latched on to you.  Don’t worry, he’ll be back.”

“We had a falling out yesterday …”

“Hah!  Your version of boot camp too much for him, eh?” rasped Franks.

Gibbs decided not to explore the possibility that this was true.  “Doesn’t matter,” he said, “Thing is, I just found out that Tony witnessed the same murder as my wife.”

Gibbs could almost hear Franks suddenly sitting up straight in his chair and finally begin to take notice.

“What the hell!  Why didn’t the kid say something?”

“Seems that Shannon told him not to.  Said he was too young to give evidence.”

“Why the hell did she do that?” demanded Franks.

“Does it matter?” asked Gibbs coolly, not wishing to have to defend Shannon.

“Guess not,” conceded Franks.  “You sure he’s gone?”

“His gear’s gone, and he left a note.”

“Damn.”

“I’m going to start looking for him,” said Gibbs in a desperate need to be doing something.

“Take this number down,” ordered Franks.

“What?”

“They’ve given me this portable phone thing,” groused Franks, “Means people can get hold of me even if I’m not in the office.  I’m on my way to your place.  Call me on this number if the kid shows up.”

Gibbs took the number down.

“You got a picture of the boy?” asked Franks, “Could help.  I’ll alert Police Services in San Clemente that he’s missing.”

“No photo,” said Gibbs.  “Listen, I’m going to get out there, start searching.  I’ll call in if I find him.”

Gibbs put the phone down and set off towards the beach.  He wished he had pressed Tony a little on where he had disappeared to the first time he had run off but decided there was already enough to regret in his dealings with the boy and that it was more important to focus on retrieving him.

Gibbs walked the length of the beach, looking out for hidey holes and hoping that Tony hadn’t set off to get a ride somewhere else: his gut told him that Tony would stay close by especially as he had nowhere obvious to go.  The first search was fruitless, and he decided to return home in case Franks was already there and also remembering that Tony had returned the first time and might do so again.

Gibbs had barely entered his house before there was a hesitant tap on the front door.  That hesitancy didn’t sound like Franks so Gibbs swung the door open in sudden optimism but he was greeted by the sight of a middle-aged woman.

“Hello,” she said, “I’m sorry to bother you …”

Gibbs was about to say _no thank you_ and shut the door because, although she didn’t seem to have a collecting tin, she had the air of someone who might go door to door for charity.

“… I wanted to say how sorry I was to hear about your wife and that beautiful little girl.”

Gibbs nodded, these condolence conversations did not get easier.  He hoped that the nod would be enough response and took a step backwards in order to shut the door.  The woman sensed the intention and spoke quickly,

“I’m Sissy Gordon, I run the camera shop along the beach.  Your wife used to bring her films in to be developed.  Such a lovely woman, always ready to have a chat,” Sissy sighed sadly but then pulled herself together, “And I thought you might like to have these …” she placed a bundle in Gibbs’ hands.

“What is …” began Gibbs.

“It’s the last two films she brought in.  One black and white, one colour.  I thought you’d like to have them.”

Gibbs gazed at the treasure in his hands.  Shannon was … had been, he corrected himself … a keen photographer and often produced excellent pictures.  “T-thank you,” he managed, “How much …” Gibbs reached into his pocket, but Sissy reached out her hand to stop him,

“Oh no,” she said, “There’s no charge.  Really.  I’m just pleased to be able to give them to you.”  And with that she patted Gibbs’ arm and hurried away.

Gibbs went and sat at the kitchen table and looked at the photos.  There were photos of Kelly on the beach and on the swing he had hung from one of the trees in the backyard: Kelly full of life and energy.  Gibbs swallowed hard against the pain of his loss and blinked to disperse the tears.  He looked again at the photos and saw that there were pictures of Shannon with Kelly … and pictures of Tony engaging with them both.  And this was a Tony with a broad happy grin that Gibbs had only had glimpses of before: Shannon had been right when she said that he had fitted in well with them.  There was a particular photo in which Kelly was looking up adoringly at her new friend and Tony was struggling to look nonchalant at the attention.

Gibbs turned to the black and white photos and saw that these were more posed pictures than the colour ones which had snatched moments of happiness.  There was a photo of Tony looking moody and Gibbs wondered if this was from one of the days he had been _acting out_.  As Gibbs looked more closely, he thought he could see that behind the bravado there was fear about what the future would hold.  He sighed, at least now he had photos to give Franks to help in the search.

A few minutes later there was a sharp knock on the door to announce Franks’ arrival.

“Found him?” he demanded.

Gibbs shook his head, “I’ve got some photos.”

Franks held out his hand and rapidly selected the one which showed Tony most clearly.  He stowed it in his pocket saying, “I’ll get my agents on to it.  When did the boy …”

“Tony,” prompted Gibbs, “His name’s Tony.”

“When did he tell you he saw the murder?”

“He didn’t.  A letter from Shannon caught up with me today.  She told me.”

“And he never mentioned it?”

“Nope.  D’you think that van we saw the other day was something to do with what they saw?” asked Gibbs.

“Could be.  They knew enough to target your wife so could be they knew about the boy witnessing it too.”

“What do we do next?”

“I’ve put a BOLO out on him.  The photo will help.  We’ll organise a search and the police will help.  Chances are he’ll give up and come creeping back.  You know, once he gets hungry.”

Gibbs nodded but he was doubtful.  Tony was both proud and stubborn: a combination not conducive to giving up easily.

XXXXXX

Gibbs was proved to be right and it seemed that as well as pride and stubbornness, Tony was also cunning.  Three days passed without any sighting.  Franks was getting antsy: they were holding their main suspect on a lesser charge and it was likely that a judge would soon rule that he should be freed on bail: Tony, as a new witness, was his best chance of keeping the murderer of the NIS agent behind bars.

Gibbs remained convinced that Tony was holed up somewhere nearby and tried to comfort himself that the benign Californian weather meant that it would be no real hardship for Tony to sleep outside but that didn’t stop him fretting about his being hungry, lonely, unhappy and extremely vulnerable.

On the fourth day, Gibbs once again did his recce of the beach and once again asked people if they had seen Tony.  When he approached the café where he and Tony had eaten pizza, the motherly waitress came running out,

“Have you found bambino Tony yet?”

In other circumstances Gibbs might have found it funny to picture Tony’s outrage if he heard himself being called _bambino_ but, on that day, he simply shook his head.  He expected the waitress to nod sympathetically and go back to work but instead she beckoned him in a conspiratorial manner,

“I think he may be around here somewhere.”

Gibbs looked around as if he expected to see Tony walking along eating an ice-cream, “What do you mean?”

“Two nights ago, we had a customer who left most of his pizza!  Bah!  Anyway, I had to throw it away but,” she looked sheepish, “I put it in a box before I put it in the dumpster out the back.  Sometimes, you know, hungry people come and scavenge, I don’t want to make the food unfit to eat.  And I noticed the next morning that the pizza had gone.”

“So?”

“So, I got to wondering … I know Tony likes our pizza and I wondered if it might be him.  So, last night, I put his favourite pizza – the sausage, pepperoni and extra cheese – in a box.  And this morning the box was still there but the pizza was gone!” She waved her arms dramatically.

Gibbs felt a surge of hope but said, “Could have been anyone,” he said, “You said yourself that hungry people go through your trash.”

“I know!  I know!  But my _gut_ says it was our missing bambino.  And so I saved the box.”

“Um?”

“So you can check it for fingerprints!” she snapped, “Mamma mia, do I have to think of everything myself?  Here.”  She thrust a pizza box in a plastic bag at Gibbs.

“Thank you …”

“Sophia.”

“Thank you, Sophia.  Do you know when he might have come?”

Sophia sighed sadly, “The café closed around midnight.  The pizza was there then.  When I arrived at 0600 this morning it was gone.”

“Do you think you could …”

“Yes, I will put another pizza tonight.  I wish I could put some salad as well; a growing boy needs his vegetables but I fear he would not take them.”

Gibbs couldn’t help but agree.  He thanked her again and told her he would arrange for the box to be tested for prints against those that had been taken from his house.  Franks, Gibbs and another NIS agent staked out the café that night but nobody came to raid the dumpster.  Gibbs suspected that Tony would have been suspicious about his favourite pizza conveniently being left for him; once again he admired the wiliness and, not for the first time, wished that Tony was a little less streetwise.

The day after that, Franks decided to follow up on a possible sighting of a boy trying to hitch a ride on the road towards Los Angeles leaving Gibbs to search the beach again.  Gibbs always made sure to spend some time at his house in case Tony returned but the next morning got up very early to see if he could spot Tony scavenging somewhere.

The beach was deserted as he walked along but, as he drew near to the pizza café, he saw Sophia running towards him,

“Thank God, Senor Gibbs!  You must come.  You must help!”

“What’s the matter, Sophia?  Is it Tony?”

“Si, si!  You must come.  I do not know what to do.”

Gibbs ran alongside her, “Tell me.  What’s going on?”

“I got in very early.  And I heard someone at the dumpster.  I went to see who it was.  And it was Tony!  But before I could say anything, there was another man!  At first, I thought it was someone who also wanted to steal from the dumpster, but it wasn’t that.”

“How do you know?”

“Tony saw him and ran.  And the man ran after him, he would not do that if he wanted food.  He would just be glad that Tony had left it for him.”

Gibbs fleetingly wondered if Sophia had ever considered a career as a detective but didn’t ask, “Where are they now?”

“Tony ran into the sea to get away from the man.  And … and,” Sophia sobbed, “The man has a gun and he looks as if he will shoot Tony.  Tony swims a little way but the man keeps parallel with him.  I do not think Tony can swim far enough out, the current will try and bring him in.”

Gibbs stopped running and pulled Sophia to a halt, “Sophia.  I will help Tony, but you must go and phone the police.  And phone this number too, ask to speak to Agent Franks.  He will send help,” Gibbs thrust Franks’ mobile phone number at her.  “Understand?” he asked.

Sophia nodded.  “They were down there, just opposite the café,” she pointed before running towards a pay phone on the road.

Gibbs ran in the direction Sophia had indicated and soon saw the man she had described.  He could Tony’s head bobbing in the water as he tried to swim away from the man.  It had been a good idea to take to the water, but Gibbs could see that he was flagging.  The man was unaware of Gibbs’ presence and, as Tony got a little closer, fired a shot.  Tony disappeared under the water.  Gibbs watched in horror and then sighed with relief as he re-emerged a few yards away from where he had gone under.

Gibbs took out his Marine Corps issue gun and approached a little nearer.  He wasn’t yet within range to take a shot and didn’t want to act until sure of success; he wished he could have brought his sniper rifle with him. 

Tony’s attacker was still intent on his quarry and hadn’t noticed Gibbs’ stealthy approach.  Perhaps he wanted to speed things up, aware that the beach would soon begin to fill up.  He fired another shot and Tony ducked down again: Gibbs wondered how long this cat and mouse game had been going on.

Finally, Gibbs decided he was within range.  He shouted out, “Hey!”

The man swung around at the sound and pointed the gun in Gibbs’ direction.  That was all Gibbs needed and he took the shot.  The man fell to the ground clutching his arm.  Gibbs ran up and kicked the gun away from him and then looked out to sea to beckon Tony to come in but realised he could no longer see the bobbing head.

Two policemen came running up at that moment with Sophia in their wake.  He yelled at them,

“Arrest him!  He tried to kill Tony!” And then, flinging his own gun down he ran into the sea to try and find Tony.

For some agonising moments, he couldn’t see Tony and he dived down to where he thought he had last seen him.  Gibbs stayed down as long as he could and was then forced to the surface again.  Just as his head broke through the water, he saw Tony floating to the top a few yards away.  Gibbs dashed towards him and managed to catch his arm before he sank again.  With a sigh of relief, he swam with Tony towards the beach and, when he was close enough, got to his feet and carried Tony in.

Sophia and a police officer raced to help him, and Gibbs saw Franks in the background.  Gibbs gently laid Tony on the sand but Tony’s eyes were closed, and he didn’t stir.

“Get an ambulance,” ordered Gibbs before checking to see if Tony was breathing.  “Damn.  Come on, Tony,” he ordered, “Don’t you dare die on me now!”  He bent to the task of CPR and mouth to mouth.

Sophia kneeled beside him, muttering prayers and reaching out to caress Tony’s head.  Gibbs was vaguely aware of the sound of an ambulance siren approaching and then heard an even more welcome sound, that of Tony breathing.


	6. Chapter 6

Two days later, Gibbs sat by Tony’s bed in the San Clemente hospital,

“Doctors say you can go home tomorrow,” he said.

Tony looked up at him tiredly, “New York?  Daddy’s come back?”

“Well, no.  Not New York … you can come home with me.”

“Oh, ok,” Tony managed a small smile before closing his eyes to sleep.

Gibbs suppressed a sigh.  The previous 48 hours had been tough on everyone.  Gibbs had accompanied Tony in the ambulance and had had to keep a firm hold on his emotions as he realised that Shannon and Kelly had been brought to this same emergency room and that they might have died in the beds he could see around him.  He put those thoughts ruthlessly to the back of his mind and focussed on Tony who had still not come around at that point.

The doctors were worried about the effects of Tony nearly drowning and kept a close eye on him, looking out for signs of brain damage or the onset of pneumonia.  Fortunately, it turned out that Tony escaped those perils, but he was exhausted both by his ordeal in the sea and his living rough for some days.  When he woke up, he was lethargic and listless and his doctors surmised that, after all the events of recent days, he had retreated inside himself away from being hurt any more.  Gibbs tried to take the small smile as a step forward.

He shook Tony gently by the arm, “You won’t sleep tonight if you sleep now,” he teased.

The exhausted look on Tony’s face suggested he wouldn’t have any trouble sleeping at any time of the day, but he was compliant in his wearied state and he opened his eyes obediently,

“I found your money,” said Gibbs.

Tony stared at him a little fearfully.

“It’s OK,” said Gibbs soothingly, “It was in an envelope in Shannon’s night stand.  She’d written _Tony’s_ _money_ on it.  And it doesn’t matter that I found it,” continued Gibbs, “Because I should have trusted you.  I should have known that you’re honest.  And I guess I did, it’s just …”

“I know,” sighed Tony, “You’ve got a lot going on, what with Shannon and …”

“That’s true,” affirmed Gibbs, “But it doesn’t excuse what I said.  And I’m sorry.”

There was a pause during which Gibbs was half surprised that the universe didn’t grind to a halt for him breaking his rule about apologies.  Tony didn’t know about that particular Gibbs’ rule so was not as impressed as he might otherwise have been.

“It’s OK,” he said, “And I’m sorry too.  I should have asked you rather than sneaking around.  And I probably shouldn’t have run off either.”

“True,” said Gibbs, “But I’m the grown-up here.  I should have kept my temper.  I tell our new recruits that all the time.”

“’s’OK,” said Tony.  He fiddled with his blankets for a moment before saying, “And they’ll let me go home with you?”

“Sure.”  Gibbs saw Tony’s doubtful face, “Why?  Don’t you want to come home with me?”

“Yes.  But I wondered if they’d let you … you know, me not being related to you and all.”

“That’s OK, we explained what happened,” said Gibbs, deciding not to mention that it hadn’t been straightforward.  The hospital was understandably sceptical but releasing Tony into the care of someone who wasn’t a family member and from whom Tony had run away.  Agent Franks had weighed in, confirming Gibbs as a suitable guardian and hinting strongly, if somewhat vaguely, about Tony needing to be protected.  In the end the hospital had agreed but said someone would make regular visits to check on Tony’s welfare.  Gibbs bristled somewhat at the thought of being supervised but could not help but be glad that Tony was no longer invisible and that his interests were being protected and being given priority.

“About the money,” said Gibbs who was still uncomfortable about it, “I guess you don’t have a bank account I could put it in?”

Tony yawned, “I’ve got an account,” he said to Gibbs’ surprise.

“Any money in it?” Gibbs asked, wondering why Tony didn’t seem to have any cash.

“Don’t know.”

“Why don’t you know?”

Tony shrugged, “The statements go to the house in New York.  And I can’t take money out.  Senior has to countersign any withdrawal and he’s not always around to do it.”

Gibbs’ fists clenched; he wondered what he would do if he ever met Tony’s father, but he didn’t want to upset Tony so changed the subject,

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow,” he promised.  “Sophia’s going to come in this afternoon, and she says she’s going to make you a special pizza when you come home.”

Tony managed a wider grin at that: it had been one of the medical staff’s concerns that he had little appetite, but it seemed that might be a matter of not liking hospital food as much as lack of hunger.

Gibbs patted Tony on the head and left to make preparations for bringing his houseguest home.  Left alone, Tony promptly fell asleep.

XXXXXX

Gibbs had not been home long before there was a knock at the door.  He opened the door and found a tall angular man on the doorstep; he was wearing a linen suit that managed to look elegantly crumpled and a panama hat which he raised courteously when he saw Gibbs.  As Gibbs gazed at him, he thought there was something familiar about him and wondered if this was _Senior_ coming to check on his son.

“Good afternoon.  Mr Gibbs?” asked the man.

Gibbs nodded curtly; if this was Mr DiNozzo, he wasn’t inclined to give him a warm welcome.

“Jeremy Paddington,” the visitor held out his hand.

“Like the railway station?” asked Gibbs as he shook Paddington’s hand.

Jeremy laughed, “And like a bear too!”

Gibbs shook his head at that.

Jeremy straightened his face, “I should not be laughing,” he said remorsefully, “I want to offer my sincere condolences on your sad losses.  I cannot imagine what you are going through.”

“What … how did you know?” asked Gibbs.

“I wonder, would it be possible to come inside and talk with you, Mr Gibbs?” asked Jeremy, “Then I can explain.”

“Come in,” said Gibbs, “Can I get you something?”  He wondered what to offer a British Earl, “Tea?”

“Oh, please … no tea,” said Jeremy with a shudder, “Everyone offers me tea!  Do you drink coffee?”

“Um … yes, your Lord?  Hell, what do I call you anyway?” asked Gibbs.

“Well, technically it’s My Lord or Your Lordship but really, just call me Paddington.”

“Paddington it is,” said Gibbs gratefully.

A few minutes later, Gibbs and the Earl were sitting at the kitchen table and Jeremy was taking his first sip of a Gibbs brew.  Gibbs waited for the grimace and was ready to get hot water to dilute the coffee.

“Ah,” said Jeremy, “Now that’s what coffee should taste like!  You know, I got a taste for good strong coffee when I was serving in the Royal Marines.  Had to learn to like it black, when one’s out on manoeuvres one never knows if milk is going to be available.  Good man!”

Gibbs decided to delay a discussion on the difference between the British Royal Marines and the US Marine Corps for something more urgent, “How did you know about …”

“Your wife and daughter?  Forgive me, but when I received the letter from your good lady, I took the liberty of doing some investigation.  Or rather, I got one of my civil servants to do some checking,” he spotted Gibbs’ blank expression, “I’m one of the Under Secretaries of State at the Foreign and Commonwealth Office,” he continued.  Gibbs’ expression was still one of bemusement, so he added, “I’m a member of Her Majesty’s government.  I have people I can ask to do things for me.”

“And they told you that …”

“That Mrs Gibbs and your daughter had been killed, yes.  Of course, to start with they simply found out about the family … you’ll understand that I wanted to know with whom my grandson was living …” Gibbs nodded at the explanation, “When I was given a most glowing account of your family, I sent the money as a holding measure rather than reporting Tony’s situation of being abandoned to the appropriate authorities.”

“Holding measure?”

“Yes, unfortunately I was scheduled to be taking part in a trade delegation in North Africa.  It would have been very difficult for me to make alternative arrangements and, given that I knew that Tony was in good hands, I decided to stick to the original plan.  I knew that my grandson was in safe hands.  That commitment has now ended, and I came here almost immediately.  And where is Tony now?  On the beach perhaps?”

Gibbs winced as he realised he had to tell the Earl that the _safe_ hands might have dropped the ball.  “Er, well, I’m afraid Tony is in hospital,” he admitted.

“Ah,” said Jeremy calmly, “Perhaps you can elucidate.”

Jeremy was softly spoken and polite, but Gibbs sensed the steel that had probably made him a very effective Royal Marine.

“Tony and I had a … misunderstanding.  And he ran off.”

“Ran off?”

“At night.  I found out in the morning.  We started a search at once.  NIS – that’s the Naval Investigative Service – co-ordinated it.”

“Forgive me, but why did the Naval Investigative Service get involved?  My grandson is not connected with the Navy, is he?”

“NIS agent Mike Franks was investigating the killing of my wife and daughter.  You probably know that they were in protective custody after Shannon witnessed the murder of another NIS agent.  After your grandson ran away, I found out that he had also witnessed the murder, but my wife had told him not to tell anyone.  That was why NIS was involved with the search.”

“My grandson became the target of the murderers?” asked Jeremy losing a little of his calm.

“Yes.  One of the suspects nearly caught Tony, chased him into the sea and stopped him coming ashore by threatening to shoot him.”

“My God!” exclaimed Jeremy.

“I was on the beach at the same time and was alerted to the situation.  I’d taken my service weapon with me and was able to shoot Tony’s attacker.  I then brought Tony to shore.”

“And is he all right?”

“He will be,” said Gibbs, “He’s been in hospital since it happened.  We had to do CPR and mouth to mouth on the beach, but he came around and hasn’t had any long-term physical effects.”

“No _physical_ effects,” said Jeremy sharply, “Does that mean there are other effects?”

“Tony’s been through a hard time,” said Gibbs, “I think he’s been worried for a long time about what’s going to happen when the new school year begins: he has no idea where he’s meant to be going … he hides it but I’m sure he’s anxious.  Then he decided he had to leave here and was sleeping rough and scavenging for some days.  Add that he was attacked and nearly killed … well, he’s been wiped out by it all.  There’s a lot for him to come to terms with.”

Jeremy stood up abruptly, “Mr Gibbs, if you don’t mind, I feel I should see my grandson as soon as possible.  Would you be good enough to accompany me?”

The tone was polite, but Gibbs felt the command behind it, and he obeyed as sharply as if it had been of his own officers giving the order.

XXXXXX

A few minutes later, Gibbs and the Earl were walking towards Tony’s room.

“Perhaps,” said Jeremy, “You should go on ahead, let him know that he has a visitor?”

Gibbs nodded and walked into the room.

“Hey,” he said gently, “Wake up, sleepyhead!”

Tony opened his eyes in puzzlement, “Is it morning already?  Sophia hasn’t been in yet.”

“No, you haven’t been asleep that long.  It’s still daytime.”

“Oh,” Tony rubbed his eyes tiredly, “OK.”  He suddenly looked worried, “Is something wrong?  Is he coming back?”  Gibbs was in no doubt who the _he_ was.

“No, no.  Mike Franks has got the man who was after you all locked up.  You don’t have to be frightened.”

“I wasn’t frightened,” protested Tony a little unconvincingly.

“Of course you weren’t,” said Gibbs with a smile.  “You’ve got a visitor.”

“Sophia?”

“No.  Someone who’s come further than that?”

“Senior?”

Gibbs wasn’t sure if it was hope or anxiety in Tony’s face, “No, not your father …”  He beckoned to Jeremy who was just out of Tony’s sight near the door.

“Boy,” said Jeremy as he came into the room.

Gibbs’ head jerked up at the impersonality of the word although the tone was kind.  He turned to look back at Tony whose face lit up,

“Granddad!” he cried.

Jeremy hastened to his grandson’s side and sat down on the bed, “Boy,” he said again.

Tony sat up and let his grandfather engulf him in a big hug before dissolving into tears as he finally let go of the fears and worries of the last weeks.

Gibbs felt his own eyes grow moist; he slipped quietly out of the room allowing grandfather and grandson to reunite in private.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think just one more chapter to wrap everything up.


	7. Chapter 7

Half an hour later, Lord Paddington emerged from Tony’s room,

“Boy’s asleep.  Worn out, I think.  Poor little blighter.”

“Boy?” queried Gibbs.

Paddington laughed, “Years ago, when he was learning to talk, he came rushing up to me and said, _I boy_!  He’d just learned the word and I pretended to be confused and think that his name was Boy.  It sort of stuck, my special name for him.  Happier days, Mr Gibbs.  Simpler days!”

Gibbs nodded, he understood about happier _simpler_ days.  “What’s the plan?” he asked, “Hospital says he can come home … back to my house tomorrow …”

“Then, if you don’t mind, I think we will stick with that plan.”

“Even though he ran away the last time?”

“I don’t think that will happen again.  Tony explained the misunderstanding … and I am well aware that he has sometimes had problems about acting on impulse.  I get the impression that he admires you, Mr Gibbs.”

“Please, just Gibbs.  I’m not used to being _Mr_.”

“Very well, _Gibbs._  So, are you willing for Tony to come back to you?  I think, at the moment, it would be best for him to be in a familiar environment.”

“I’d be glad to have him.  And what about you?  We could find room …” Gibbs trailed off as he realised that _finding room_ would entail giving up either Kelly’s room or the room he had shared with Shannon and he wasn’t sure he was up to that yet.

“That’s kind of you, but I have a room booked in a hotel in town.  I’m not exactly on holiday – there are still some tasks I have to attend to so it’s best that I have space in which to work.”

“Tony would be disappointed not to see you …”

“And I would be disappointed not to see him.  Rest assured, I did not come all this way for just one visit.  I will work in the early morning when the time difference will best fit with my department in London.  I will hope to see my grandson in the afternoons: if that is agreeable to you?”

Gibbs nodded.  Paddington went back into Tony’s room to sit with him for a while and Gibbs went back home to prepare Tony’s room for him.

XXXXXX

Tony came home as planned the next day and soon recovered his energy but there was a difference: it seemed that Tony blossomed when he knew he had adults around him who truly cared for him.  The testing of boundaries diminished as he came to accept that his grandfather, Sophia and Gibbs would not lose interest in him if he was less than perfect.

Paddington was true to his word and spent the afternoons and evenings at Gibbs’ house.  Gibbs didn’t stop mourning and the pain of his loss was as acute as ever but having Tony in the house, meant that he had to get up in the morning, get washed and dressed and ensure that Tony was fed, watered and kept as clean as a teenager would allow himself to be.  Sitting at the breakfast table with Tony meant that he almost accidentally ate something himself under the innocent yet knowing gaze of his guest.

Gibbs began, almost imperceptibly at first, to plan his future and begin to glimpse the possibility of keeping Tony with him on a longer-term basis.  The day that he went into his backyard and saw that the honeysuckle was in bloom and was covered with eager butterflies was a day of hope for Gibbs and, for a moment, his burden lightened.

Mike Franks arrived one afternoon for an appointment with Gibbs and Lord Paddington.  Tony was helping Sophia at the café: Gibbs and Paddington had decided they preferred to get an update from Franks and then give Tony an edited account.

Franks nodded when he was introduced to the Earl but didn’t ask how he should be addressed.

“Pedro Hernandez …” he began.

“Who?” asked both Gibbs and Paddington.

Franks huffed a little and looked askance at Gibbs, “He’s the guy who shot the NIS agent who was protecting Kelly and Shannon Gibbs … and he’s the guy who you shot on the beach, Gibbs.”

“Oh.”  Gibbs hadn’t quite made the connection that the man he had shot had also been the one responsible for the three deaths.  He wondered if his aim would have been different if he had known.

“Yeah,” said Franks, “We thought he might have hightailed it back to Mexico,” again he directed an odd look at Gibbs, “But it turns out he stuck around to try and finish the job and get your boy.”

“And what happens now?” asked Paddington in a precise tone which Gibbs could picture him using with his civil servants.

“He’s confessed to the three murders and the attempted murder of the kid.  And,” Franks rubbed his hands in satisfaction, “He’s admitted that he was hired to do the job of killing them and …”

“And?” asked Gibbs.

“He’s told us who hired him and why.  It confirms that the man we have in custody was responsible for the first murder.  Faced with that, that guy is also spilling his guts.  We’ve gathered enough information to smash a huge drugs ring.”

“That’s good news,” said Paddington.

“Huh,” said Franks suddenly morose, “Means that the FBI are sniffing around.  Plus the DEA …”

“Drug Enforcement Administration,” supplied Gibbs for Paddington’s benefit.

“Damned big fish federal agencies always think they can muscle in on us,” complained Franks, “But NIS’ll give them a run for their money!”

“I’m sure you will,” said Paddington politely.

“Damn straight,” said Franks.  It seemed likely that he was looking forward to the fight.

“And Tony, my grandson – will you need him to give evidence in the cases pending?”

“Nah,” said Franks, “Hernandez and the other one are gonna to plead guilty.  We’ll take a statement from your boy but that should be all we need for him.  He’ll need to stand by in case we need him in court, but I don’t reckon we will.”

“Thank you,” said Paddington, “If you don’t need anything more from me, I will go and collect my grandson from his dishwashing duties at Sophia’s.  It was good to meet you, Agent Franks and I thank you for your actions in apprehending Senor Fernandez.”

“Reckon you’ve got the Gunny to thank for that,” said Franks honestly.

“Nevertheless,” said Paddington, “I am most grateful for your intent.  And, of course, your efforts to find my grandson’s father.”

The Earl stood and offered his hand to Franks who took it in a manner that suggested he was still trying to translate the Briton’s words into American.  Franks shook his head as the visitor left and turned to Gibbs,

“Hear your time with the Corps is coming to an end,” he announced.

“That’s right,” said Gibbs, “My commitment’s up at the end of next month.”

“What you going to do?”

“Don’t know.  I’ve been told I won’t be deployed again …”

“Why not?”

“One too many injuries,” said Gibbs resignedly, “You know what it’s like,” he let the sentence drift to an end.

“Yeah, I know.  Still, there might be other things you could do.”

“Hmm,” said Gibbs non-committally.

“Was a time I thought you might have it in you to be a NIS agent,” said Franks.

“Yeah?”

“But I don’t know.  Not sure you’re the man I took you for.”

“What?”

“I figured when I left that case file for you to see … guess, I reckoned you’d go after Hernandez.  Thought you’d be buying a ticket to Mexico that same day.”

“Eh?”

“You know it was against the rules?  Letting you see his details _and_ that he was our suspect for the killings of your wife and daughter.”

“When …”

“Hah!  Good one, Gibbs!  Perhaps you have got it in you after all!  You remember, when you and the kid came to my office.  I left the file on my desk while I went to the head.  I told the boy that there was no need for you to hurry.  When I came back, you were both gone, and the file was still open on the desk …”

“But Hernandez wasn’t in Mexico, was he?  So, if I’d gone, I wouldn’t have found him, would I?” asked Gibbs.

Franks gave another of his barks of laughter at what he perceived as Gibbs’ wiliness, “Guess not.  Well, if you think about joining NIS … perhaps it’s a possibility after all.  I’d teach you everything you need to know.  If you could keep up!  Still, if you’d worked out it wasn’t the right time to go after Hernandez, I reckon that shows you’ve got potential … only _some_ potential, of course.  You’d have a lot to learn.  Let me know.”

Gibbs nodded, still a little bewildered.  It was only as he closed the door on the NIS agent that he remembered that visit to Camp Pendleton in more detail.  Returning to Franks’ office and wondering why Tony had removed his sweater despite the chill of the air-conditioned office.  He remembered telling Tony not to forget his top from where it had been placed somewhat oddly on the desk.  And he remembered a slightly odd look on Tony’s face as he obeyed.  Surely Tony hadn’t realised what was going on, had he?

Gibbs shook his head and wondered whether he would indeed have acted as Franks had predicted had he seen the details about Hernandez.  Fortunately, it was now an unanswerable question, but Gibbs couldn’t help but think that, in the madness of his grief, he might well have gone in pursuit of vengeance.  He almost shuddered at the narrowness of his escape … and then he wondered what it would be like to work for Franks full-time.

XXXXXX

Shortly after Franks’ departure, Gibbs’ meditation was brought to an end by the return of Tony and his grandfather.

“Gibbs!” said Tony excitedly, “Sophia let me be a waiter!  It was so cool!  And look, I got a tip.  Two dollars!”  He opened his hand to show Gibbs the money.

Gibbs kept a straight face at Tony’s excitement: he remembered his own pride when Jackson had first paid him 50 cents for sweeping the floor of his shop.  “That’s good work, Tony,” he praised.

“I think I’ll be a waiter when I leave school,” said Tony.  “Perhaps one day I could have my own pizza place on the beach.”

“And surf between serving?” suggested Gibbs.

“Wow,” said Tony.  “It’d be great!”

“How about serving Gibbs and me with some coffee,” suggested Paddington.  “You know, practise some of those waiting skills.”

Tony nodded and ran off eagerly.

And so, the next couple of weeks went by.  Tony went off the idea of being a waiter but came up with alternative plans most days and in the meantime spent as much time on the beach as he could manage although he tried always to be near one of his favourite adults.

In the evenings, after Paddington had gone back to his hotel, Tony and Gibbs sat together companionably.  Sometimes they would watch a movie and, usually, Tony would give Gibbs a running commentary and a blistering critique of what they were watching.  If it happened that Tony hadn’t seen the movie before, he would watch in rapt silence and then give Gibbs his candid opinion when the credits rolled.  Gibbs, who would always be more of a listener than a talker, allowed it all to wash over him and was surprised that the chatter was in some strange way quite healing.

Gibbs did speak sometimes however and let Tony into the secret of cooking steaks cowboy style and started teaching him some basic woodworking.  Tony lapped it all up although Gibbs suspected it was the company that he relished rather than the getting splinters in his fingers.  The day that Gibbs confided that he was building a boat in the basement of his house in Washington was the day when Gibbs laughed out loud for the first time since he got the news about Shannon and Kelly: the astounded look on Tony’s face was simply too funny to resist.  He slung an arm around they boy’s shoulder,

“I’ll have to show you one day,” he promised.

XXXXXX

In late July, they belatedly celebrated Tony’s birthday, much to his astonishment.  The actual birthday had fallen while he had been on the run, but he had never mentioned anything.  When Paddington realised that the day hadn’t been celebrated, Tony simply shrugged his shoulders as if it wasn’t important.  It was then that Gibbs and Paddington realised that it probably been years since anyone had taken notice of the birthday, let alone throw a party.

So, the day had been marked with pizza, birthday cake and presents.  Tony had sat at the birthday tea table in bemusement and as if he was afraid it was all a dream from which he would soon wake up.  In the meantime, he ate as much birthday cake as he could before the dream could end.

Gibbs and Paddington smiled ruefully at his joy and each resolved that all the birthdays would be celebrated in future.

One day in early August, Paddington arrived a little earlier than usual.  Tony was in the backyard shooting hoops: his latest career choice was to be a professional basketball player and he was in serious practice.

Paddington sat at the table and accepted a mug of Marine strength coffee.

“I have to go back to the UK next week,” he said.

“Ah,” said Gibbs, “Wondered how long you could play hooky for.”

“Gibbs … Jethro, I hope you know how much of a debt I owe you and your family for your care of Tony.”

“Goes both ways,” admitted Gibbs.

“How so?”

Gibbs pointed to a bottle of bourbon on one of the kitchen cabinets.  “See that bottle?”  Paddington nodded.  “I bought that on my way home from the funeral.  Along with my service weapon.  I intended to climb into that bottle and never crawl out unless it was to use my gun.”  Paddington nodded again.  “I never opened the bottle.  And that’s because of Tony.”

“I see.  Jethro, what are your plans for the future?  I think you said that your commitment to the Marine Corps is up soon?”

“I could sign up again.  I won’t ever be an active Marine again but there’s the chance I can be assigned to a training role at Quantico.  Training snipers.  Would mean more regular hours.  More routine.”

“Hmm.”

“Or I could get another job.  Try another career.  Agent Franks suggested I could be taken on with NIS.  Whatever, I think my days of being out of the country for long stretches are over.”  Gibbs looked hopefully at Paddington.

“Jethro, do you remember I said I’d been on a delegation to North Africa before I came to the States?”

Gibbs nodded, a little puzzled at the apparent change of subject.

“And that I came almost directly here afterwards?”

Gibbs nodded again.

“I made a diversion.  I went to visit my former son-in-law in Cap d’Antibes.  My civil servants had traced him there in much the same way as Agent Franks had.”

Gibbs clenched his fists unconsciously at the mention of Tony’s father, “What did he say about Tony?”

“He professed to be surprised that there was a problem.  He had thought that Tony was still at Camp and claimed not to have had any notification that it had had to close early.  I admit that he laughed a little when he learned that Tony had managed to find someone to stay with: he seemed to feel that had been good _networking_ on his behalf.”

“And he wasn’t concerned that he hadn’t heard from Tony through the summer?”

“No, he seemed to think that Tony might be sulking after being expelled … or that he was afraid of what his father would do or say.  I fear it would be more unusual for Anthony to see his son during a vacation than _not_ see him.  There was an incident in Hawaii the year before last … but never mind about that.”

“And what plans had he made for a new school for Tony?” Gibbs ground out.

“Nothing.  He assured me he was getting around to it and that he had heard good reports of a military academy in Rhode Island.  He said it had a good reputation for straightening _troubled_ kids out.”

“He didn’t think that perhaps he’s the one who needs _straightening out_?” asked Gibbs sarcastically.

“Alas no.  I fear that Anthony is not … how shall I put it, one of nature’s natural parents.  He occasionally means well but the benign impulses do not last and would only survive if they did not require any effort on his part.  The man is essentially selfish and self-centred.”

“But he wants Tony to go to a military school?  When?”

Paddington coughed, “I prevailed on Anthony to see that it would be better if decisions about Tony’s welfare were taken away from him.  I admit that I emphasised how _troubled_ Tony was and how difficult it would be for Anthony to cope with that at the same time as maintaining his current lifestyle.”

“And he agreed?” asked Gibbs more hopefully.

Paddington coughed again, “Eventually.  He was most interested to learn that I had been on a trade delegation to North Africa.  It seems that it is an area that he sees as ripe with business opportunities.  I reminded him of my position in government and he realised that, if I was favourably inclined towards him, my contacts could be of use to him.”

“And?”

“And he agreed that I should become responsible for all decisions relating to Tony’s welfare until he comes of age.”

“Good,” said Gibbs, “You know I …”

The courteous Paddington interrupted him, “So I propose that Tony return to the UK with me, to live with me and his grandmother in London.  Tony has dual citizenship so there will be no problem in his coming with me and taking up residence.”

“And what?  Tony will go to another boarding school?” said Gibbs a little bitterly.

“If he wants to,” said Paddington serenely, “But there are many excellent day schools which he could attend.  My wife and I frequently visit my brother Clive and his family at their home in Henley-on-Thames.  I think Tony would like it there and it would be good for him to meet other members of his family.”

“But you’re working,” said Gibbs, “You can’t get much time away from your job even when you’re on vacation.  Is that fair on Tony?  He needs someone to be around.”

“I agree.  My wife does not work although I will admit that she is busy with a number of committees and charitable work, but she is happy to curtail those activities to accommodate Boy’s needs.”

“I think it’s male companionship he needs,” said Gibbs, “Especially after the man who should have cared all these years has let him down.”

Paddington smiled, “And I agree with that too.  There is to be a government re-shuffle in the Autumn … in the Fall, you would say.  I have already indicated to the Prime Minister that I wish to leave my post and not be considered for another one.”

“You’ve got it all worked out, haven’t you?”

“Yes, I have.  I think it’s time for my grandson to learn more about his British side … to learn about rugby and cricket as much as basketball and American football.  He might want to learn rowing when he is at Henley.”

“I told you that my work is going to change,” said Gibbs, “I’ve been thinking about it too.  I could …”

Paddington held up his hand to stop Gibbs, “Jethro, I am acting in Tony’s best interests.  I can guess at what you are proposing but I worry that you would be using him as a way to come to terms with your grief and loss.  You have already said that his presence has stopped you from drinking and possibly even suicide.  I don’t think it would be fair to place that burden on Tony … so far in his short life, he has been seen as dispensable, as not important.  I want him to have a childhood where he is important for himself and not as a prop for someone else.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” said Gibbs, “I’d look after him … I might not be as well off as you, but I’d make sure he was well looked after …”

“I’m sure you would, Jethro.  I know that you care for him deeply, but I think, for the present, he would be better off in a stable family environment.”

“Because it suits you!”

“Yes, because it suits me!  Of course!  My wife and I have always wanted to have more contact with Tony but his father was too unreliable to keep to any arrangements we made.  Of course we want to see more of him, but we have loved him for years … and he is our grandson – he is _our_ responsibility.  Surely you see that?”

Gibbs was silent for a moment or two as he came to terms with what Paddington was saying.  The thought of losing Tony was painful but, ever honest, he could see that Tony would be better off going with his grandfather.  He made one more effort however,

“You said you’re quitting the government.  What’s DiNozzo going to say when he finds out that you don’t have influence anymore?”

Paddington’s voice was hard, “I don’t know, and I don’t really care.  Anthony handed over responsibility to me in writing and he can’t wriggle out of it.  But, in truth, I think he’ll be glad not to have to think about Tony.  And I don’t want he and Tony to be estranged, for there to be bad blood.  I might not have _government_ contacts to help him, but I have other friends who might be willing to give him favours.  I won’t throw him to the dogs.”

“You really have thought of everything, haven’t you?”

“I hope so,” said Paddington sincerely, “I really do want Tony to be happy.”

“He might be happy here.  In America, the place he’s called home.”

“He can call London home.  We will make sure he is happy, Gibbs.  I really believe it is the best solution.”

“Are you going to ask Tony or just tell him?”

“If I think Tony is unhappy at the thought of coming with me, then I will think again,” said Paddington.  “But, Jethro, may I offer _you_ some advice?”

“Doubt if I’ll be able to stop you!”

“My advice would be not to leave the Marine Corps.  Sign up for the shortest period possible and stick to it.  I think leaving the Corps would be another bereavement for you – it’s been your life for so long.  You remember I said that I left the Royal Marines when my father died?  Well, I know that it was the right thing to do in many ways but it was painful.  I was mourning my father and I was also mourning the loss of my other family, my _brothers_ if you will.  I think it would be the same for you.  Stay in the Marine Corps, keep something familiar in your life and it will give you structure and stability.  I think that’s what will help you at the moment.”

“More than having Tony?”

“Yes, more than having Tony.”

Gibbs nodded.  He hadn’t realised how much he had been hoping Tony would stay with him and the thought of that not happening was more painful than he had expected.

Tony came running in at that moment; red-faced, sweaty and with a triumphant grin on his face,

“Guess what!  I scored 48 in a row!  That’s my personal record.  Come and see!”  Tony shared his smile between the two men.

“In a minute,” smiled Paddington back.

“Ohh,” whined Tony.

“Your grandfather has something to say to you,” said Gibbs.

“Yes?” said Tony.

“I’m going back to the UK next week,” said his grandfather.

Tony’s face crumpled for a moment but then he ironed out any emotion, “I see,” he said neutrally.

“And I … and your grandmother … would like you to come with me and make your home with us.  For as long as you want.”

“But … what about Daddy?”

“Your father has agreed.  You know that he is very busy, and he feels that we could look after you better than he can.”

Tony gazed at Paddington, a knowing look that suggested he knew exactly what his father thought.

“Well?” asked his grandfather, “Would you like to come?”

Tony nodded fervently and threw himself into the Earl’s arms, “Yes, please,” he whispered, “Yes, please.”

Over Tony’s head, Paddington looked a query at Gibbs, inviting him to make a counter offer but Gibbs shook his head.  Paddington nodded gratefully and dropped a kiss on Tony’s hair.

XXXXXX

A few days later, Tony got ready to say goodbye to Gibbs.

“Tony,” said Gibbs, “Do you remember when we went to Agent Franks’ office?”

“Yes,” said Tony cautiously, “I haven’t got to go back, have I?  Granddad said it was over.”

“No, you haven’t got to go back.  I just wanted to know … you took your sweater off in Agent Franks’ office.”

“Yes.”

“And put it over a file that Agent Franks had put on the desk.”

“Yes.”

“Why did you do that?  Were you hiding it from me?”

Tony wriggled a little, “I guess.  Sort of.”

“Why did you do it?  Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble, I just want to know.”

“Well, it felt a bit … weird.  Not right somehow.  I thought you might have been going to be tricked into doing something … and I …”

“That’s OK, Tony.  You didn’t do anything wrong.  I promise.”

Tony looked at Gibbs but decided that he was being honest, and that Tony didn’t need to worry about it any longer, “I’ll miss you, Gibbs,” he said, “Thank you for letting me stay.  I’m sorry I was a nuisance.  And thank you for saving my life and well, you know … lots of stuff!”

“Hey,” said Gibbs, “Without you, those bad guys would still be running around.  You did good.  You can be proud of yourself.”

Self-doubt was still strong in Tony and he looked unconvinced,

“Hey,” said Gibbs again, “You ever know me not to tell the truth?”

“Is that another rule?” asked Tony cheekily.

“Might be.  But I’m telling you the truth.  You’re a good person.  Remember that, even if other people don’t.  You hear me?”

“Yes.”

“And you know where I am.  If you need anything you can contact me.  If I move house, I’ll let you know, and the Marine Corps will always know where I am, and I’ll make sure they know that they can tell you where I am.  Understand?”

“Yes, Gibbs.”

“Good boy.  And don’t forget that your grandparents love you.  They’ll look after you.”

“Yes, Gibbs.”

“Go on then, your grandfather’s waiting for you.”

Tony smiled a wobbly smile and started for the door but then he turned back, “I love you, Gibbs.”

Gibbs hesitated for a moment, “Hey, I love you too, kid,” 

Tony walked up to Gibbs and gave him a hug.  Gibbs hugged him back and patted his head gently.  The two remained in the embrace for long moments and then Gibbs let him go, “Go on, kid.  Fair winds and following seas.”

Tony nodded and walked away with a final wave at the door.

Gibbs watched him go and wondered if he would ever see him again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter went on much longer than I’d expected!
> 
> Just an epilogue to go now.


	8. Epilogue

Jethro Gibbs was startled awake.  He lay in the gloom wondering what had woken him up.  He heard a noise on the stairs and went to investigate and saw a teenage boy standing there with a guilty look on his face.

Gibbs rubbed at his eyes in bewilderment, trying to work out what was happening.  Why was Tony standing there gazing at him?

“Tony?”

“Gibbs?” came the reply.

The room momentarily swayed for Gibbs and then, fully awake at last, the world righted itself and Gibbs remembered that Tony had left him and gone with his grandfather to create a new life and a new happiness without Gibbs.  A wave of sadness hit him as he remembered the pain of the separation.

“Gibbs!” came again but in a deeper voice and from a different direction.

Gibbs turned to look.

“Shannon’s asleep,” came the first voice again.

Gibbs shook his head in bewilderment.  How could Shannon be asleep?

“And this one should be,” said the deeper voice.

“But I wanted to …” said the first voice.

The last vestiges of sleep and confusion bled away, and Gibbs opened his arms for a hug,

“I made Dad bring me,” said the boy walking up to Gibbs, “He said we should wait until tomorrow.”

“And so we should!  I’m sorry, Gibbs.  Meant to be here earlier.”

“No problem, Tony,” said Gibbs, “Any time’s a good time to see Jem.  And you, of course.”

“Of course,” grinned Tony.  “It’s good to see you, Gibbs.  Guess _I_ couldn’t wait to see you either.”

“How long has it been?”

“Must be getting on for 13 years … Jem will be 12 at Christmas and this is the first time you’ve met him.”

“And whose fault is that?” groused Gibbs, “All that living in out of the way places!”

Tony laughed, “Guilty as charged.  But we’ll be right on your doorstep now.  You’ll soon be fed up with us.”

“We’ll see,” said Gibbs.  “Hey, Jem, you want a snack?”  There was no reply and Gibbs saw that the boy had crashed out on the couch and was sound asleep.  Gibbs smiled and went over to the boy and laid a blanket over him tenderly, “Jeremy Jethro DiNozzo,” he said softly.  He turned to Tony and gripped him firmly by the upper arms, “Good to see you, Tony.”

“So you said.  Though you looked a bit spooked for a while.  Began to think you’d changed your mind about wanting to see us!”

“Didn’t know where I was for a minute,” confessed Gibbs, “Fell asleep waiting for you.  Woke up suddenly and then I saw Jem on the stairs.  Took me back to when I first saw you … and I thought it _was_ you … you remember, creeping into the house to get that duffel bag of yours.  Took me a while to remember that it’s been 25 years since I met you … and that this was today and it was your son, not you I was seeing.  He looks a lot like you, you know.”

“I know.  Everybody tells me that.  He’s going to be taller than me though.  I was still a bit of a shrimp for my age when I first met you.”

Gibbs frowned, he could still get mad at the thought of Tony’s life before he had met him.  “How is your father?” he asked.

Tony shrugged, “Much the same.  Charming, always full of plans – which never quite come off.”

“You don’t seem to mind,” commented Gibbs.

“I guess I just think of him as an irresponsible kid brother,” he admitted, “And it’s easier to love him like that.  Once I didn’t have to have him as a father figure, things got easier.”

“Hmm,” said Gibbs crossly.

“Time to let it go, Gibbs,” said Tony easily, “And I reckon I had a better life because of him going missing that summer.  If he’d arranged something for me after Camp closed, I’d never have met Shannon and Kelly … and you.  And Granddad wouldn’t have come back into my life like some avenging angel.  It all worked out for the best.”

“I guess,” said Gibbs.  “And you’re here for a while?” he asked, still not quite daring to believe that Tony was so close again.

“Three year posting,” said Tony cheerfully, “At least!”

Gibbs sighed contentedly.

XXXXXX

Gibbs had followed Lord Paddington’s advice and recommitted himself to the Marine Corps.  He had been stationed at Quantico meaning that he could return to his house in DC.  Gibbs had mourned Shannon and Kelly for a long time but remaining with the Corps had given him a familiar structure and discipline which had helped him keep going.  He had missed Tony, but they had written to each other regularly.

Lord Paddington encouraged Tony to travel to the US for summer vacations: he usually spent a week with his father (if he remembered the engagement), another week or so with the newly found DiNozzo uncles and their children and then the remaining weeks with Gibbs.  Gibbs continued the woodworking lessons and coached him in baseball, trying not to lament that his swing had been affected by playing too much cricket.

As Tony grew older, the visits became shorter.  The demands of cricket loomed large in Tony’s life and drew him to stay in England and there was a summer when he had broken his leg playing rugby in the winter and was unable to travel for months.  Although they did not see each other as much, their connection remained strong and Gibbs followed his progress through university and his entry into the Diplomatic Service and he travelled to Ireland when Tony married Elizabeth Colquhoun.

Gibbs was honoured when their first child was named for him and Jeremy Paddington and was even more touched when their daughter was named Shannon Elizabeth: Tony joked that he had chosen to marry an Irish woman because she would not mind a child being named Shannon.  Gibbs had smiled dutifully when Tony had relayed the joke to him, but he knew the serious purpose behind the name.

Tony’s career in the British Diplomatic Service had seen him and his family posted all over the world with the result that he had not met up with Gibbs since before Jem had been born.  Now, however, he had a posting in Washington DC, and they could reconnect properly.

“How’s Jerry?” asked Gibbs as they sat over coffee.

Tony grinned, “You do know he hates being called that, don’t you?”

Gibbs shrugged: he and Lord Paddington had developed a close friendship which they disguised under a constant stream of bickering, “Tell him to stop calling me _Leroy_ and I might not call him Jerry,” he said placidly.

Tony nodded; he knew that Gibbs and his grandfather got on well and were united in their care for him.  “Granddad’s fine.  Still goes to the House of Lords most weeks.  Guess it’s hard to let go of being in charge.  And talking of leopards not changing their spots, how’s life out of the Marine Corps going?”

Gibbs had finally left the Corps two years before and had struggled to adjust to begin with, “OK,” he said.

“Just OK?”

“Oh, all right, it’s fine.  I’m at the local Community College most days.”

“Ah, catching up on your education, eh?” teased Tony, “Well, they say it’s never too late.”

“Idiot!  I teach woodworking to a few classes.”

“And you like it?”

“I guess I like teaching … although it took some getting used to that I couldn’t shout at them like I could my recruits!”

Tony smiled at the picture but thought that Gibbs was actually more patient than he let on: he liked to present a gruff face to the world but, for some people at least, was pretty marshmallowy inside.  “You still building a boat in your basement?”

Gibbs nodded.

“That’s one of the reasons Jem insisted on coming tonight even though our flight was delayed, and we arrived so much later than we told you we would.  He still doesn’t believe me.  Shannon wanted to come too but she fell asleep in the cab from the airport, so Libby took her to the hotel.  You’ll see her tomorrow.”

Gibbs smiled at the thought; he had seen lots of photographs of Shannon who had inherited her mother’s red hair and her father’s grey-green eyes.

“ _Jerry_ says you might get an ambassador’s post next time.”

“Got to do the three years here first.  Then I’ll have a home posting for a year or so … probably have to learn Japanese or another Far Eastern language.  And if I do get an ambassadorship, it’ll probably be for a very small country … a dot somewhere in the Pacific!”

“You’ve done well,” said Gibbs.  “Proud of you.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” said Tony a little flippantly.

“Don’t remember helping all that much,” said Gibbs, “It was mostly Shannon.  Seems to me that all I did was nag you to take a shower and then run you off.”

“Hey, I have to nag Jem all the time!  And I was pretty skittish back then.  And what I remember is that you talked to me, you saw me as a real person and that was a new experience for me back then.  And I reckon that the times you lost your temper with me … well, I provoked you and you were going through a bad time.  I think you get a pass.”

“I could have done better,” said Gibbs stubbornly.

“We could have _all_ done better,” said Tony firmly, “And I never told you, did I?  The day all that stuff happened on the beach, I was on my way back to your place.  I got fed up of hiding around all the golf courses and scavenging for food.  And I’d stopped being mad with you – well, not _as_ mad anyway and I thought you’d find a way out of what was happening to me.   You felt _safe._ ”

“I figure you spent a lot of your childhood being anxious,” said Gibbs.

Tony looked across to where Jem still slept on the couch, “When I had kids, I swore I never wanted to have them being scared of me or doubting that I love them.”

“He looks happy enough,” said Gibbs drily, “So I think you’re OK there.  But you know …”

“Enough, Gibbs,” said Tony, “Let’s agree that we were good for one another and leave it at that.  It was a long time ago, let’s not pick away at it.  Something good came out of the chaos and that’s good enough for me!”

“That what they teach you at Diplomat School?”

“I guess but I think it’s what I learned at Life School!”

“Fair enough.”

“Although, thinking about the good old days, did you ever run in that NIS agent again … what was his name – Banks?”

“Franks.  Mike Franks.”

“That’s it.  Did you?”

“He wanted to recruit me, you know.  Although you nearly put him off the whole idea!”

“Me?  How?”

“By hiding that file, do you remember?”

“What?  When?”

“You took your sweater off and put it over the file.”

“Did I?”

“It had the name of Franks’ main suspect in.  he thought I’d go off and try to get revenge.  When I didn’t, he thought he’d misjudged me and nearly changed his mind.  You really don’t remember?”

“Vaguely,” said Tony.  “Guess I saved you from something horrible!  Imagine what it would be like to live with having killed someone like that – would have gone against everything you stood for in the Marine Corps.  How would you have coped with knowing you’d done something like that?”

Gibbs nodded, he had often had the same thought.  He suspected that going after Hernandez would have changed, twisted him forever.  He also sometimes wondered what would have happened if Tony had sneaked in and out without being caught that first time and they’d never met.  He shook himself, “Well, like you said, it’s all in the past.  No point re-hashing it.  And Mike Franks retired to Mexico: seems he got fed up with how the high-ups did things.  Never heard from him again.”

Tony drained his cup and stood to go.  “We’re moving into the house the day after tomorrow.  I love my kids, but I don’t want them running around while we’re moving: you still up for having them for the day?”

Gibbs shrugged noncommittally but the glow in his eyes suggested he couldn’t wait.

“Great,” said Tony, “You know that’s the reason I angled for this posting: built-in baby sitter!”

“Yeah, whatever,” said Gibbs with a roll of the eyes at the joke.

When the cab came, Tony roused a sleepy Jem and walked him to the door where Jem turned and, looking much like Tony years ago, said,

“I love you, Gibbs.”

“Love you too, Jem,” _and you too, Tony_ , he added silently.

“See you tomorrow, Gibbs,” promised Tony.

Gibbs’ heart lifted at the thought, “Semper Fi,” he said.

“What’s _Semper Fi_?” Gibbs heard Jem ask his father as they walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should probably have given a fluff alert at the beginning! 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has taken an interest in the story … the NCIS characters are back in their canon boxes but it was fun to shake the box a little.


End file.
